Stealing Time
by Corruo
Summary: An innocuous show of affection from Hermione just before Harry's History of Magic exam leads to unimaginable consequences and an eventful summer for both.
1. It's Late

Author's Note: Well, here we are again. Just like I promised, since The Divine Plan has reached 200,000 views and is complete, I'm posting my next story. When I first set out to write The Divine Plan, I don't think I ever really planned on writing another story. But here we are. Taking into account a lot of the lessons I learned from writing my first story, this one will be much more lighthearted and fun…at least, that's the plan. As a result, I will admit that there may be plot holes or discrepancies with canon. While I do not plan for them and make every attempt to avoid them, I am only human and may forget things. That said, I have done much more research for this story and have actually planned everything out completely, unlike what I did last time. Due to the fact that everything is outlined now, the first five chapters of this story are much shorter than later chapters. That doesn't mean they are particularly short, just shorter than the chapters will be later. This is due to the fact that the first few chapters are introductory chapters, setting up for the main story. As you read chapter one, I don't think there will be anyone out there who will be able to see what the main plot of this story is. That will come later on after the groundwork has been laid.

When developing this story, I considered several things, but many of them came back to one question: how far can I take a small event and have it have broad implications? In other words, how drastic can the consequences of one small action be? You will see the beginning of that in this chapter.

There are a few other things I want to mention here as well before we begin. The first is that, for a number of reasons, this story is set in modern times. Harry's fifth year is ending in 2011 in this story. Timing will also play a part in the story, hence the time stamps scattered throughout the story.

Another note I wanted to bring up is the way the characters are portrayed. Whereas in The Divine Plan, Harry and Hermione were technically adults with the mind of an adult, that is not the case in this story. As a result, I am writing them as exactly what they are: teenagers. Confused teenagers. So when I wrote this chapter, and the rest of the story, I considered, at least with regards to Harry, how I would have felt in his shoes when I was his age. So, the characterization of Harry and Hermione may be different from what I have written before, making them more innocent. This is intentional.

But the other thing I want to mention is that the chapter titles in this story will follow a common theme. I will not say what that theme is, but I'm hoping that a few of you out there in Internetland will be able to guess. Once someone guesses it in a review, it won't really be a secret anymore, so I'll let the cat out of the bag. But at that point, if anyone can guess the name of the next chapter (or each subsequent chapters as we go along), then they'll get an Internet cookie from me (or just a smiley). Think of it as a kind of game to involve you, my treasured reader.

As always, I do want to mention that I do not own the rights to Harry Potter, or anything else in this story that may be copyrighted material or intellectual property of another individual. These are somebody else's toys. I'm just playing around with them for a little while.

So, once again, I thank you for reading this long note and this story in general, and please review it if you like it. Now, without further ado, let's get started. Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to Stealing Time.

Chapter 1

**It's Late**

_June 9, 2011_

_10:47 PM_

With a frustrated sigh, fifteen-year-old Harry Potter looked up from his well-worn copy of _A History of Magic_ and glanced around the nearly empty Gryffindor common room. The flickering light from the dying fire cast an eerie glow on the crimson and gold tapestries that adorned the walls, lending an air of sophistication to the room as the shadows of the room's occupants danced on the walls. Aside from the occasional hushed whisper from the two students in the room, the only sounds that could be heard were the crackling of the fire and the soft rustle of turning pages. As Harry looked around the room, he saw a pair of first year students rise from their seat on one of the sofas and make their way upstairs to the dormitory. Seated at a small square table in the corner of the common room, Harry was now alone in the room with his companion, who was seated across the table.

With her head buried in her copy of the same textbook, sixteen year old Hermione Granger sat directly across from Harry, a look of intense concentration etched on her face. From Harry's perspective, the low light from the fire framed his friend's bushy hair with an almost angelic radiance.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione lifted her head from her book and blinked tiredly. "How's it going for you, Harry?" she asked.

Harry rolled his eyes in response. "I don't know how I expected to learn the entire history of magic with a few days of review," he complained.

"Well, if you had paid attention in class and started earlier…" Hermione trailed off.

"I think you must be the only person who has managed to stay awake through an entire History of Magic class with Binns, Hermione," he argued. "You can't hold me to that standard; it's just not fair!"

"But what about starting your revising earlier?" she pressed.

"I…well…" he began, searching for a logical argument. "Maybe it wasn't the best idea to wait," he finished sheepishly, looking back down at his textbook.

Seeing the look of resignation on his face, Hermione closed her book loudly. "I think that's enough for tonight," she announced as Harry looked up again. "Harry, I know our History O.W.L. is tomorrow, but I think we've done enough for now. Regardless of what I said a moment ago, I really am proud of you for putting as much effort into studying as you have over the past few days. If only I could get Ron to put out a fraction of that effort…" she scowled as she thought of how Ron had skived off in order to experiment with the Room of Requirement, coming back late and heading straight up to bed. After seeing how the Room had conformed to the needs of Dumbledore's Army, Ron had become enthralled by the possibilities, and had taken to challenging the room to come up with more and more elaborate creations, culminating lately in the stadium from the Quidditch World Cup.

"Ugh," Harry groaned. "Why do I get the feeling that this isn't going to go well?"

Hermione smiled. "Unfortunately, Harry, since studying is somewhat new to you, you haven't experienced this yet. For me at least, the more I study and revise, the less confident I am. That doesn't make me any less prepared, I just feel less prepared, like I should have studied more. I just get the feeling that I won't do well. Maybe it's due to over thinking the problem, and maybe it's because I've been cramming so much information into my head that I think that I won't be able to remember it all. I'm not sure. But I do know from experience that there is a point at which you have to stop studying and just accept that you will do as well as you do."

"Yet you're the one who always worries and bites her nails in anticipation of her latest marks," Harry pointed out with a grin. "And you always complain if you ever get anything less than a perfect O."

Hermione blushed and turned away slightly at his remarks. "Maybe I have been a bit…preoccupied at times," she admitted. "But I can't help but be anxious to see how I actually did on an exam, even if I know I can't control it anymore once I put down the quill."

"Right," Harry replied as he closed his book as well.

"The best thing to do is to just do your best. We've been going over the material for a while now, so I know you'll do better on the exam now than you would have done a few days ago. At least keep that in mind, Harry." She rose and placed her book in her bag, which was resting on the floor next to the table. She then picked up her bag and walked around the table to Harry.

"Goodnight, Harry," she said softly. Then she did something that she had only done once before. She leaned down and kissed him softly on the cheek. "Good luck. And don't worry; I'm sure you'll do just fine."

With a small smile, she turned and climbed the stairs to the girl's dormitory, leaving Harry utterly alone in the common room.

Left alone, Harry slowly raised his hand to his face and rubbed his cheek idly. _What was that?_ he thought. _Was it just for luck? Or was it something more? Nah, Hermione isn't a devious little witch who would play with a bloke like that. She would come out and tell them directly. Wouldn't she? Wait, why am I even thinking about this all of a sudden. I mean, it was just a good luck kiss…that Hermione never usually does…_

More confused than ever, Harry packed up his supplies and threw his bag over his shoulder. But he still couldn't shake the confusion from his mind. _I've got to ask someone,_ he decided. Suddenly, he was struck by inspiration, and with a literal snap of his fingers, he rushed upstairs to his dormitory.

After creeping past the other sleeping students and rummaging around in his trunk, Harry returned to the empty common room, carrying a small object. The fading light from the glowing embers in the hearth reflected mystically off of the small mirror in Harry's hand.

"Sirius Black," he whispered into the mirror distractedly, his mind still wandering to what had transpired a moment before. There was no response for a moment, which caused Harry to glance up at the clock on the wall in worry. He had failed to consider that Sirius might be asleep by this point.

"Harry!" Sirius's jovial face said from the mirror suddenly. "Uh, oh. What's her name?" he asked.

"Huh?" Harry replied in confusion. "Who?"

Sirius suddenly looked several years older as he looked carefully at Harry. "Why the girl who's carrying your sprog of course. What's her name? It can't be Hermione. It's not Hermione…is it?"

Harry, still distracted, nodded. "Yeah, it's Hermione."

"You knocked up Hermione?" Sirius bellowed.

"Wait, what?" Harry asked quickly, shaken out of his stupor. "No, Sirius, I…Hermione and I…we didn't…I mean…"

Seeing the panic on his godson's face, Sirius's features immediately relaxed. "Okay, Harry, so you didn't knock up Hermione. That's a relief. For a moment there, I thought that-"

"Why would you think that that was why I was calling? Of all things, why that?"

Sirius reached behind his head and began scratching idly. "Well, you see Harry, when I first saw you, you had that look on your face. It's a look I remember seeing a lot of back in the day whenever a bloke would go through a pregnancy scare."

"Was it whenever you looked in a mirror, Sirius?" Harry asked cheekily, fully recovered from his panic at Sirius's accusations.

"So, Harry, what is wrong with the lovely Miss Granger then?" Sirius asked, dodging Harry's question. "This is the first time since I gave you that mirror that you've used it. It's got to be something important. That was kind of the first thing that came to mind though…"

"Leave it to you to jump that kind of conclusion, Sirius. But that's not it at all. See, Hermione and I were getting ready for our History of Magic O.W.L. tomorrow, and it wasn't going well. I just wasn't getting it. So we called it quits for the night. But then, as she was heading up to her room, she kissed me goodnight on the cheek."

Sirius was silent for a moment before speaking. "Okay," he began slowly, "is this the first time she's done this?"

"Well, no. It's actually the second time. The first time was at the end of last year at the station. She kissed me goodbye on the cheek then too. Granted, that time it was because we weren't going to see each other again for a long time, so it made sense then. But this time is different. It seemed different, almost like it was out of place. It was like she was doing it just for the sake of doing it."

"So what's the problem then?"

"I mean, nobody's ever done that before her. Granted, there was Cho, but that was just wet and awkward. Aside from her, Hermione's the only one who's done something like this."

"So what's the problem then?" Sirius repeated.

"Fine! I don't know what it means!" Harry admitted exasperatedly.

"That's better then. So let's talk about it, shall we? Let's start with what you think it means."

"I don't know. I mean, it could have just been for luck, but I'm not sure. What if it isn't? I just can't figure it out!"

"What makes you think that this little peck was for anything more than luck? Has she ever given you any reason to think that she may like you as more than a friend?"

"Well, no," Harry admitted uncomfortably. "Do you really think it was just for luck?"

"Harry, I think you're reading too much into this. I can't help but think of the great Muggle author Shakespeare, when he wrote 'The lady dost protest too much, methinks.' Not that I'm saying that you're a lady, but the principle still stands."

"I'm just trying to figure it out," Harry protested. "Wait. Since when do you read Shakespeare?"

"Actually, it was your mother who tried to introduce Shakespeare to us Marauders . She only succeeded in getting Remus to read anything he wrote, but I do remember that Remus used that one line on your mother at one point."

"So you've never actually read anything by him?"

"Of course not, Harry. I've got an image to maintain here! But really, don't worry about it. I'm willing to bet that it was nothing more than a good luck kiss. I really think you're making more of this than you need to."

"Fine," Harry sighed with a mixture of relief and despondency. "I'll take your word for it. Rumor has it that you were quite the womanizer back in your day."

"Back in my day?" Sirius repeated in an offended tone. "I'll have you know that I still have a way with the ladies. Just the other day, I was out with Remus, disguised of course, and-"

"Wait. Are you sure the correct word is 'ladies?' If I have to ask Remus about your romantic qualities, then something must be weird here."

His face flushed red with embarrassment, Sirius scowled at Harry through the mirror. "Harry, don't forget that just because you're far away in a magical castle doesn't mean I can't track you down and injure you bodily. Remember that and I'll let that comment slide this one time."

Harry didn't make eye contact with Sirius following his thinly-veiled threat, his wandering eyes finding the clock on the wall. The time was quickly approaching midnight. His exam was scheduled for ten o'clock in the morning.

"You know, these mirrors remind me of all of Dudley's computers he's had over the years," Harry observed absently. "Of course, the Dursleys would never let me use them or even touch them. But just using these mirrors reminds me of what I would sometimes see him doing, chatting with his friends using a camera he had."

"He had a what?" Sirius asked, confused. "Is that one of those muggle marvels that Arthur is so enthralled by?"

"Yeah," Harry replied with a chuckle. "I forgot how far apart the magical and muggle world are sometimes. A computer is a muggle device that…well…it's actually really difficult to explain to someone who really has no grasp of the muggle world. No offense, Sirius."

"Oh, of course I shouldn't take offense at that," Sirius responded sarcastically.

"Don't pay it any mind, Sirius. At any rate, it's late, and I have my History O.W.L. in the morning."

"Good luck on that, Harry. Make sure that Binns doesn't haunt you in your sleep and rot your mind with his ramblings."

"Such a pleasant image to fall asleep to," Harry muttered with a roll of his eyes. "Good night, Sirius."

"Good night, Harry. Oh, and Harry," he added, "thanks for calling. "You have no idea how happy I am that you finally wanted to talk to me. Much more so that you came to me with a problem."

Harry gave Sirius a small smile. "I'm sorry it took so long. I just didn't want to give you any ideas and have you run off on some fool's errand. You are still a wanted man, after all."

"Unfortunately, you're correct, Harry. But anyway, good night, and good luck on your exam. By the way, to disconnect the mirror, just tap the top edge."

With a nod to Sirius, Harry moved to tap the mirror and end the call.

"Oh! Harry, one last thing," Sirius called out quickly. "Think about what I said. I really think you're over thinking the whole situation with Hermione. But I really think you should think about what you want. I get the feeling that friendship may not be enough for you, even if you aren't ready to admit it, or even able to realize it." Harry opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off. "Just keep it in mind. Good night." With that, the mirror went blank, disconnected at the other end.

Tucking the mirror into the pocket in his oversized jeans, Harry headed back up to his dormitory. Once upstairs, he returned the mirror to his trunk before changing into a large t-shirt and shorts.

"Girls are so bloody hard to figure out," he complained quietly to himself as he climbed into his bed, closing the curtains behind him. As he crawled under the blankets, he considered Sirius's words more carefully.

_It's just not something she usually does_, Harry rationalized. _I mean, that's all it is. What did she expect me to think? I'm only fifteen years old, it's not like I know what everything a girl does means. Then again, she did go to the Yule Ball with Krum last year. And her constant bickering with Ron could be their form of some pathetic mating ritual or something…Gah! It's so confusing!_

_It could have just been a good-luck kiss_, another voice within his mind argued, sounding somewhat irritated. _Why are you trying to convince yourself otherwise? Has she given you any reason to? Maybe Sirius is right. Maybe you do secretly fancy Hermione and are just trying to justify it any way you can._

_Shut up!_ Harry argued back to himself. _I'm just trying to figure it out is all._

_More like trying to overanalyze,_ the other voice shot back. _Just see how she acts tomorrow. Maybe that'll give you an idea about what she meant. Until then, I'm tired and need my sleep._

Harry's mind went silent after that. The only sound in the dormitory was the sound of Ron's incessant snoring.

_Wait, was I just arguing with the voices in my head?_ Harry asked himself. _I must be crazier than I thought. Maybe it'd be a good idea to just forget this whole thing ever happened._

With that, Harry turned over onto his side, tucked a hand under his pillow, and drifted off to sleep.

End of Chapter 1

A/N: So that was chapter one which, along with the next few chapters, are somewhat short and form a sort of introduction to the story itself. So don't judge the full tale just yet. That said, please review and let me know what you think of this first chapter or what I need to change (at least technically, not with the story). I am trying to keep the characters more in character this time, so Harry and Hermione will act their age for the most part. I also wanted to have more fun with the interactions between Harry and Sirius, so this chapter is the beginning of that. Anyway, leave a review, or two or three. Otherwise, stay tuned. I plan on keeping a relatively regular update schedule, that should be at least once per week, considering the fact that I am several chapters ahead at this point. So stay tuned!


	2. Don't Lose Your Head

Author's Note: Well, I must thank everyone for the very positive reaction to chapter one even though, truth be told, it was pretty simple in its premise. That said, you may be able to see a bit of the main plot creeping in in this chapter. As for that little review game I suggested in my last author's note, where I said that every chapter would have a commonly themed title, somebody already guessed it: luvsanime02. I wasn't quite expecting anyone to guess that all of the chapter names would be Queen song titles, but somebody out there is just too good. I thought that the name "It's Late" would be obscure enough to not guess, especially since that line was in the chapter. But oh well. So now, since someone has guessed it, I just want to have a little fun and see if anyone can guess the next chapter name between now and the end of this story, which should be at chapter 21. All of the chapters have been named, and the names are appropriate and fitting to the subject matter of the chapter, to make it easier. I will also say that I will not use the name "Bohemian Rhapsody" at any time, so I'll just take that one off the table.

So, can anyone guess the title for chapter 3? I'll give you a hint: it was, and still is, a pretty popular song. It may not be one of the really, _really_ big name songs, but it's up there.

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy and review chapter 2. I really enjoyed writing this chapter, even more than writing chapter 1. The overall goal of this story is to have fun and be a fun read, so I hope that I have at least got the ball rolling in that regard. To address one of the concerns put forward in a review: the function of time in this story is mainly to serve as a marker. As we get further into the story, _timing_ becomes important, but not necessarily _time_. There will not be time travel in Stealing Time. That said, I do reserve the right to use it in future stories, since I have some unique ideas for time travel. Also, there will not be exploding heads in this story. I just thought I'd get that out there. This story is not a serious one, but is supposed to be light and humorous at times.

Thank you again for reading and please, please, please leave a review and tell me how much you like it.

Chapter 2

**Don't Lose Your Head**

_June 10, 2011_

_7:48 AM_

The morning sun streamed through the separation between the curtains surrounding Harry's bed, waking him from his restless slumber. Try as he might, he had not been able to take his mind off of the events of the previous night. Throughout the night, he could not turn his mind away from analyzing and reanalyzing Hermione's innocuous kiss in the cheek the previous night. It just seemed so out of character to him that he didn't know what to think. However, as Harry sat up in his bed and stretched, he considered what that small voice in the back of his mind had said the night before, and decided to see how Hermione acted that day and go from there.

Opening the surround on his bed, Harry stepped onto the cold stone floor, hopping briefly before quickly sitting back down on his bed and pulling on some socks. One of the downsides of wearing Dudley's hand-me-downs was the lack of slippers. Because his portly cousin had never been an early riser, he had never seen the need to warm his feet in the morning, and had therefore never owned a pair of slippers.

His graying, holey socks now adorning his feet, Harry once again tested the floor, finding it much more bearable than before. As he turned toward his trunk, Harry saw movement coming from Ron's bed, as the redhead began to stir. Quickly, Harry opened his trunk and rifled around, pulling out various garments. A moment later, when his wardrobe for the day had been chosen, Harry closed his trunk and gathered his clothes in his arms. Ron was just beginning to rise from his bed at this point.

"Sorry, mate," Harry began, "but I'm gonna get the shower first. I know from experience not to let you go first. It always seems like the heating charm on the tap has worn off for the day after you're done. I'll be out in a few minutes though, don't worry." Before Ron could form a coherent reply, Harry dashed off toward the shower.

He returned ten minutes later with a towel around his neck, patting his cheeks.

"Is that…aftershave?" Ron asked, gathering his clothes for the day in his arms.

Harry turned to hide his blush as he threw his towel vaguely near his bed.

"I…er…" Harry stammered, failing to hide his obvious embarrassment.

"Since when do you wear aftershave, mate?" Ron asked. Then his eyes went wide as he broke into a wide smile. "Guys," he began, addressing the two others who were still in the room, Neville and Seamus, "I think Harry's got his eye on someone. Look! He even tied his tie perfectly and everything."

True enough, Harry had tied his tie tightly, as opposed to his usual standard of a loose knot hanging from his neck lazily.

Thinking quickly, Harry improvised. "You're right," he replied, sounding more confident than he felt. "After all, Griselda Marchbanks is the one who'll be overseeing today's exam. I hear that she's a real cougar," he finished slyly. "I was hoping to make a good impression."

"Cou…cougar?" Ron stammered, swallowing audibly. "But she must be…over a hundred and thirty!" His response drew a loud laugh from Seamus and a light, nervous chuckle from Neville, both of whom left the dorm immediately, disregarding Ron's previous statements.

Taking advantage of the situation, Harry attempted to distract Ron further. "Mate, there might not be any breakfast left if you don't hurry and get in the shower," he pointed out.

"Oh! You're right," Ron said quickly, his eyes widening with fear. "Harry," he added as he walked toward the door, "can you wait for me before going down to the Great Hall?"

Harry shrugged. "Sure. What for?"

"Well I just figure that there's one less person down there, which means that there should be more food when I get there. See you in a few minutes!"

The door to the dormitory slammed behind him, leaving Harry with a look of complete disbelief on his face.

"Are you kidding me?" he asked the empty room as he sat down on his bed to tie his shoes for the day. After finishing, he trudged down the stairs to the common room, only to be greeted by a cheery voice.

"Good morning, Harry," Hermione called from her seat on one of the sofas, book perched in her lap.

"Morning, Hermione," Harry replied tentatively, sitting down on the opposite end of the sofa. As he sat down, Harry couldn't help but notice that Hermione seemed to scoot closer, despite the fact that her head was still bowed over her book.

"Ready for the History exam today?" she asked earnestly as she seemed to get closer still.

"Um, sure," Harry answered awkwardly.

At his answer, Hermione closed her book and looked up at him concernedly. "What's wrong, Harry?" she asked, her voice laced with care.

Harry thought quickly. "Late night, I suppose. I didn't go to sleep until a while after you left." It wasn't technically a lie, so he was happy with his answer.

"Oh," she responded simply. She placed her book in her bag and slung it over her shoulder as she stood. "Are you ready to head down to the Great Hall?" she asked.

"Actually, Ron asked me to wait for him. He seems convinced that if I go down there now, I'll eat the last of the food and there won't be any for him. I think he's barmy myself, but then again…"

"This is Ron we're talking about," they finished in unison, cracking up in laughter as they did so. The youngest Weasley male's obsession with food had become a running joke with them, and they took any opportunity to ridicule him for it.

"Did I hear my name?" a voice called from the stairs. Harry and Hermione turned just as Ron reached the bottom of the staircase, his hair still damp from an apparently rushed shower.

"You didn't waste any time I see," Hermione observed sarcastically. "It looks like you can't even be bothered to dry your hair. Or tie your shoes, for that matter," she added as she took in his complete appearance.

Ron shrugged with indifference. "Who cares? There's food to be had downstairs. To the Great Hall!" he declared dramatically, pointing towards the portrait-hole.

Hermione rolled her eyes in disgust at his antics as the three set off. "Ron, why do I get the impression that your brain isn't stored in your head, but in your stomach instead?" she asked.

"Oh come off it, Hermione," Ron argued. "I need all the energy I can get to maintain my sleek, strapping physique." He puffed out his chest for emphasis as they walked, causing Harry to snort in laughter.

"Strapping, Ron?" Hermione countered. "I'm not sure that's quite the right word. I've yet to see dozens of young witches lining up for you, so I doubt strapping is the correct description. Yes, you may have a fast metabolism, but your eating habits are disgusting. So you can count me out of joining that lineup."

Harry's ears perked up at her last comment, which seemed to cast doubt on one of the points during his argument with himself the night before. But he stamped down his interest immediately, convincing himself that there was no reason he should get excited.

"Well I never asked you join anyway, Hermione," Ron retorted. "I mean-"

"Guys," Harry interrupted, hoping to head off another of their famous rows. "Do we really need to do this now? You aren't even arguing over anything important. Besides, we have more important things to worry about, like our exam that's in a couple of hours."

"Merlin, Harry, it sounds like you're turning into Hermione or something. Focusing on exams. It's barmy I tell you."

"He's right, you know," Hermione admitted to Ron with a sigh.

"Of course I am. I'm always right," Harry boasted jokingly.

"Stop it, Harry. You're not helping anymore. I just mean we shouldn't be arguing, because then that'll be all that's on our minds during the exam. This is one exam we can't afford to do poorly on."

"You say that about every exam," Ron complained. "And I've yet to see you proven right on that, so I've stopped paying attention when you say it."

"I've noticed. I also noticed you couldn't be bothered to study at all for the History O.W.L," she pointed out.

"What's the point? We both know that we'll fail it anyway, no matter how much we study. History's useless, everybody knows that!"

"So you want to make your own mistakes rather than learn from those made by others?"

"Guys?" Harry interjected once more. "You're doing it again."

"Sorry Harry," Hermione conceded. "It's just that I can't stand to talk to him sometimes."

Ron opened his mouth to argue, but Harry cut him off. "Ron, don't even say anything. I don't want to have to stop another argument."

"I…uh…I was just gonna say that we're here," Ron finished lamely, pointing out that the three had been standing outside the doors to the Great Hall for some time now.

All three blushed lightly before Harry opened the door, allowing Hermione into the expansive room, followed closely by Ron.

The population of the Great Hall was thinning as the trio entered, with various students collecting their belongings and leaving.

"There better be something left!" Ron exclaimed, as he ran towards the trio's usual seats at the Gryffindor table. Harry and Hermione exchanged a look of incredulity at his behavior, before Harry simply shrugged his shoulders.

As Ron piled bacon, eggs, sausage links, and toast onto his plate, Harry and Hermione sat on the opposite side of the table, grabbing empty plates as they did so. Hermione reached for an assortment of various fruits to supplement her modest serving of scrambled eggs, while Harry focused on the bacon and eggs, grabbing a sole apple to compliment them.

"Honestly, Ron, I don't know how you can eat like that and still stay as thin as you are," Hermione remarked.

"You said it yourself," Ron replied, his mouth full of a grotesque mixture of egg, bacon, and toast. "Fast metabolism."

"Close your mouth when you talk too," Hermione commanded. But Ron ignored her and focused the entirety of his attention on the meal at hand.

"He's insufferable," Hermione complained quietly to Harry as she pulled out her copy of _A History of Magic_. "He'll be completely oblivious to us for the rest of breakfast. I might as well take advantage of the peace and quiet." Taking a small bite of egg, Hermione opened her book and began to read.

"You're still cramming?" Harry asked absently as he peered over Hermione's shoulder at the book.

"I just want to make sure I remember everything," Hermione explained, never looking up from her tome. "Since Ron is currently gracing us with his silence, I wanted to be somewhat productive."

"And talking with me wouldn't be productive?" Harry joked.

Hermione's head jerked up in abject horror at Harry's comment. "Oh, Harry! I'm sorry if I made you feel that way! I didn't mean to-"

"Hermione!" he interrupted. "Relax. It was a joke. I was just trying to make small talk. I wasn't offended at all. You don't need to overreact."

"I'm sorry, Harry," she sighed. "I'm just a little distracted is all."

"O.W.L.s?"

"Partly," she replied cryptically. "But it's not really important. I'm sorry if I overreacted or anything."

Harry waved her comments off. "So what's on the docket now?" he asked curiously, changing the subject.

"Well, I was just trying to brush up on the goblin war of 1873," she replied naturally, although her small sigh of relief did not go unnoticed to Harry.

"Which one was that again?" Harry asked as Hermione tucked a strand of wayward hair behind her ear.

"Well, remember this one was centered around the value of the galleon," Hermione explained, launching into full lecture mode. "Wizards of the time alleged that the goblins were manipulating the value of the galleon, and were thereby creating deflation."

"…and that's a bad thing, right?" Harry asked, confused.

"Honestly, Harry. I thought we went over this last night." She took a deep breath before forging on. "If the goblins were really creating deflation, that would make the value of their holdings of galleons go up. Remember, with deflation, the same amount of money will buy more stuff."

"Then how is that bad? Why is it worth starting a war about?"

"It all has to do with international politics. Back in the nineteenth century, wizarding Britain was, at least culturally and developmentally, very close to the muggle world. As a result, as was the case in the muggle world, a large amount of trade occurred between various magical communities across Europe. Each one, however, has their own currency. In order to create this deflation, the goblins had, at least according to the wizards at the time, hoarded large amounts of galleons so as to drive up the value of those in circulation. In Britain, this drove down prices, but also meant that fewer galleons were in circulation. In other words, there was less money to go around. So when magical Britain went to trade with, say, magical France, they were not able to buy as much. The same happened if a wizard wanted to travel abroad and needed to convert their galleons. They would only get a little back in exchange. The rising price of imports hurt the economy in magical Britain, forcing the wizards of the time to find a scapegoat. They found it in the goblins."

"So what happened in the end?"

"Another treaty, of course. This time, an independent board comprised of goblins and wizards was formed to control the value of the currency. But there never was an answer about whether the goblins were manipulating the price of the galleon or not."

"Dear Merlin, Hermione. Where did you learn all of that? Or, more to the point, where did you learn so much about economics? I don't remember that being covered in any of our books."

Hermione shrugged. "The goblin incident was in our textbook. The rest I just gathered from reading _The_ _Times_ during the summer and picking up bits and pieces here and there."

Harry threw an arm around Hermione's shoulder. "And that's why we love you," he said with a light squeeze. "Somehow, you just know everything. That's how we've survived as long as we have. I would have been dead without you last year, what with the tournament and all."

As he finished speaking, the clock in the Great Hall struck 9 AM, deep chimes ringing out through the cavernous space. As the sound faded away, the food on the tables began to disappear slowly, starting with the emptier parts of the room and working towards the remaining students.

A moment later, Ron's plate disappeared as well, despite the fact that it was still full.

"Hey! I was still eating!" he exclaimed.

"Ron! That was your fourth plate of food!" Hermione cried. "You'd think you would've had enough by now!"

"Anyway," Harry interrupted loudly once again, getting both of their attention. "I really think I need to start keeping track of how many times I can interrupt one of your arguments. Maybe I'll play a game with myself to see what my high score can be."

Both Ron and Hermione glared at him, causing Harry to chuckle.

"Come on. I think the disappearing food is a not-too-subtle indication that we shouldn't be in here anymore. I'm sure that they'll start getting the Great Hall ready for the O.W.L.s soon, since it starts in less than an hour."

"Oh, you're right, Harry!" Hermione confirmed. "I still need to go over the invention of the magical printing press and how it-"

"No you don't," Harry announced. "You said it yourself last night, if you keep studying, you'll just over think the exam. You studied during breakfast, but now I think we just need to relax before the exam."

* * *

><p>The ticking of the massive clock in the Great Hall was the only sound that could be heard aside from the occasional scratching of quills. Harry tapped the top of his quill against his chin absently as he looked up from his parchment and around the room. He was seated toward the middle of the Great Hall, the massive house tables replaced with long rows of desks, each separated by about two meters. In front of him, Harry could see Hermione hunched over her desk, writing furiously. To his right, Ron was chewing on the tip of his quill in nervousness, bending the quill as he did so. As Harry watched, the quill snapped, sending a few droplets of ink flying. With a panicked look on his face, Ron grabbed the short stub that was once the end of his quill, and awkwardly tried to position it in his hand so that he could write. Harry could only speculate as to how poor his handwriting would look now.<p>

Harry glanced back down at his desk, which was covered by two piles of parchment and an ink bottle. He had so far managed to work his way through seven of the thirteen pages of parchment in just over one hour of the two hour block allotted. However, as he looked back down at his current page, he remembered why he had looked away in the first place.

_Compare and contrast the treaty that ended the Goblin Rebellion of 1549 and the Third Treaty of Stonehenge. What tenets of each treaty still have political ramifications today? List three similarities and differences, as well as three examples of the treaties' relevancy today._

Harry was stumped. He could not remember anything about either the Goblin Rebellion of 1549 or the Third Treaty of Stonehenge. If only he could see Hermione's parchment, he was sure he could glean a few ideas to start an answer. That was all he needed really, just a place to start.

At a loss for an answer, Harry looked down to the next question, which, thankfully, seemed to require a much shorter answer, at least from the appearance of the space given for the answer.

_Rawgwog's Folly, the battle that ended the 1718 goblin civil war, took place in the massive goblin mines under the muggle town of Doncaster. What was the name of the opposing goblin general who defeated Rawgwog and his forces?_

This was one that Harry knew. He actually remembered reading about the goblin civil war the night before, before he was distracted. Putting his quill to his parchment, he began to write in the space provided.

_General Gwargon_, he scratched into his parchment in his usual lazy scrawl.

Finishing his answer, Harry breathed a sigh of relief at answering another question.

Suddenly, his vision exploded in a blinding white light, as his forehead erupted in excruciating pain. As Harry dropped his quill and fell out of his seat onto the stone floor, he became light-headed and felt as though he were drifting away from his body.

That feeling lasted only a brief moment as the extreme pain lifted and the white light began to clear. However, instead of being greeted by the sight of the Great Hall, Harry was instead treated to the sight of a long, smooth corridor. However, this corridor was not unfamiliar, as Harry remembered it from his vision involving Arthur Weasley earlier in the term. This time though, he was once again moving down the corridor, and through the mysterious door at its end.

On the other side of the door, Harry found a massive, cavernous room lined with countless shelves. Against his will, Harry continued to move through the room, his body seemingly not under his own control. He could, however, turn his head, and watch the shelves as the passed by, one by one.

As he watched the one particular shelf as it passed by his right side, Harry suddenly stopped moving. Slowly, Harry turned his head to look to his left.

There, on the floor, was a familiar form; one that he had just spoken to the night before. His godfather, Sirius, lay trembling on the floor, blood seeping from his nostrils and from the corner of his mouth.

As Harry's eyes traced his godfather's prone form, they stopped as they saw a single black boot perched atop Sirius's back, holding him down. Harry followed the boot upward until his eyes rested on the savage, snake-like visage of his nemesis, Lord Voldemort.

"He is still alive, Harry," his nemesis hissed menacingly. "You can still save him…if you hurry."

"Harry!" he heard from behind him. He quickly turned his head, only to find nothing aside from the two figures currently in front of him.

"Harry!" he heard again. This time he could tell that the voice was distinctly female.

"Remember, Harry," the hissing voice continued. "Remember that we are in the Department of Mysteries. We'll be waiting."

With that, Harry's vision once again exploded in a painful white light, as his scar once again flared up in pain. The pain was once again only temporary, as it quickly subsided once more. This time, however, instead of seeing a dark, sinister room, Harry was greeted with a pair of shimmering brown eyes.

"Harry!" Hermione squealed, "he's awake. Everybody, he's awake!"

Despite being startled by her excitement, Harry couldn't take his eyes off of hers. He slowly lifted himself onto his elbows and looked around the room distractedly. It seemed as though the entire population of the Great Hall was surrounding him, watching with concern.

"Easy, Harry," Hermione advised gently, placing a hand on his back to help him up. "That was a pretty nasty fall, and it looks like you hit your head pretty hard. What happened?"

Everything suddenly rushed back to him. The vision. Sirius.

"I've got to get out of here," he said weakly as he struggled to rise to his feet. He felt Hermione's arm as it wrapped around his torso to help him up. With Hermione's help, Harry began to trudge towards the doors to the Great Hall. Ron was not far behind.

"Lavender," Hermione yelled, "turn in my exam. I was done anyway," she mumbled at the end.

As the trio exited the Great Hall, they could hear Madame Marchbanks calling for order and commanding the students to return to their seats.

Once outside with the doors closed, Harry slumped against one of the walls to regain his bearings.

"Harry, what happened in there?" Hermione asked with concern.

"Another vision," he explained simply, still clutching his scar as it throbbed with pain. "I saw Sirius. Voldemort has Sirius in the same place that I saw Nagini attack Mr. Weasley. I have to get to him," he declared as he rose shakily once more. Hermione darted over to him to once again offer her services, but Harry waved her off.

"And where exactly are you planning to go, Harry?" she demanded, seeing that her offer to help had been rejected. "You don't even know where that vision took place."

"No!" Harry replied violently, "it was in the Department of Mysteries. I know that!"

"And how exactly do you plan on getting to London, Harry?" Hermione continued. "The floo system is locked down by the horrid woman, your broomstick has been confiscated. And, on top of all that, you don't even know if this vision was accurate or not! For all you know it could have been a fake!"

Ron had wisely decided to step back from Harry and Hermione, leaving the two to argue on their own.

"I had that other vision about Mr. Weasley, didn't I?" Harry countered. "And that turned out to be right, so why shouldn't this one? I've got to save Sirius, dammit!"

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Hermione paused before replying. "Alright, fine," she conceded. "If you're planning on going there to rescue Sirius, then at least do it properly. You need a plan."

Harry nodded tentatively, his face still red with anger.

"Harry…do you trust me?" Hermione asked meekly. Harry nodded slowly once more. "Then find a way to contact Sirius. Make sure that he's actually in danger. It could turn out that this is a trap, and it wouldn't do to go rushing in without making sure that it's really necessary." She paused again for a moment to think. "The only problem is that owl post is too slow and the floo system is locked down."

"What about the floo connection in Umbridge's office?" Ron suggested, speaking for the first time. "I'm sure it's still open."

"It's risky," Hermione replied quietly, still mulling their options. "But if it's our only option…"

"Wait," Harry said, significantly calmer than before. "I think I have another way. We've got to get up to the tower though."

The trio took off, Harry's mobility much improved due to their rest outside the Great Hall.

A few moments later found the trio bursting into the Gryffindor common room, the portrait of the Fat Lady slamming behind them.

"Wait here," Harry commanded. "I'll be just a moment." He ran up the stairs to the boy's dormitory, only to return a moment later with a glistening object in his hand.

"Sirius gave this to me last Christmas," Harry explained as he approached the other two members of the trio. "I would have never thought to use it, if it weren't for last night." He glanced at Hermione, who did not pick up on the subtlety of his words.

"What is it?" Ron asked.

"Sirius Black," Harry said to the mirror. "It's a two-way communication mirror," he explained as they waited for the mirror to respond. "Sirius said that he and my dad used to use them during detentions to talk to each other. Bloody brilliant if you ask me."

As he finished speaking, Sirius's face appeared on the surface of the mirror.

"What's the matter now, pup? You still want to talk about what happened last night?"

Hermione and Ron crowded in behind Harry as Sirius spoke, hoping to see the mirror in action.

"Sirius," Harry sighed in relief. "Thank Merlin you're alright."

"Why wouldn't I be? Oh, hello there Hermione," Sirius added somewhat nervously, noticing her presence finally.

The three sat down on one of the sofas in the common room, with Harry in the middle, still holding the mirror.

"I had a vision during my History exam. I saw you injured, being held by Voldemort in the Ministry."

"Really?" Sirius asked skeptically. "Sounds like a brilliant way to skive off of an exam to me. But why are you really calling again so soon? Not that I don't want you to call or anything…"

"No, I'm serious!" Harry argued.

"Actually, I'm Sirius," Sirius replied cheekily. But seeing the stony look on Harry's face, he quickly dropped his playful attitude. "Okay then, you saw me being held by snake-breath. But I assure you, I'm not being held prisoner by anyone. Except this sodding house of course."

Hermione shot Harry a significant look, which caused him to drop his head in shame. "Yes, Hermione," he admitted, "you were right."

"Of course she was, cub," Sirius interjected. "She always is. But what was she right about this time?"

"She said that I should check up on you instead of rushing headlong into a situation I knew nothing about. She wanted to make sure I didn't go and lose my head over the whole situation."

"Harry was going to go and save you, consequences be damned," Hermione explained, glancing over at Harry once more.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," he mumbled.

She perked up at his apology. "Perfect!" she exclaimed, much happier than before. "Now that that's all settled, I just wanted to ask something. Why didn't you tell me you talked to Sirius last night?"

Harry's eyes widened in fear, and he caught a glimpse of a large Cheshire grin forming on Sirius's face, before he shook his head almost imperceptibly to discourage it.

"Um, I just needed Sirius's advice. You know, O.W.L.s were coming up," he answered lamely. It wasn't technically a lie. Just two separate sentences that had no business being put together. Hermione glanced over at the mirror to see Sirius nodding fervently.

"Uh huh," she replied skeptically. "Am I to believe you asked one of the most notorious pranksters in Hogwarts history, not to mention someone who doesn't always seem to be the most...mature person on Earth, for help on one of the most important exams you would ever take?"

There was silence for a moment as Harry weighed several responses. None of them involved the entire truth.

"I really did need his advice," he responded truthfully. "And then we talked for a while about this and that. You know, blokes talking about bloke things."

"Bloke…things?" she asked, her brow furrowed in thought. "Ron, what do 'bloke things' include?"

Ron threw up his hands in exasperation. "Hey, leave me out of this. I didn't ask to be part of this discussion."

"But you're sitting here," she argued logically. "So you are part of the discussion."

"Then I'm leaving. I'll be upstairs doing…I don't know, playing chess against myself or something. Let me know how it goes, alright mate?" he asked Harry, slowly rising and backing towards the staircase to the boy's dormitory.

Sirius cleared his throat as Ron left. "So, Harry, are you going to tell Dumbledore about your vision? It might be something important, like the one you had with Arthur."

"I'd like to, if he could be bothered to talk to me at all," Harry replied bitterly. "I don't think he's said two words to me all year. That, combined with the fact that I have no idea where he is, makes it quite difficult to talk to him."

"Well, at the very least, you should tell Minerva."

"Oh, didn't you hear?" Hermione asked. "That horrid, toady wench and her cronies attacked Professor McGonagall when she tried to stop them from evicting Hagrid. She's in St. Mungo's."

"What? Is she alright?" Sirius asked.

"I think she'll end up being alright," Hermione said. "From what I understand, she took four stunners to the chest. I haven't heard how she's been doing since then though."

"Just great. Just fantastic," Sirius complained. "I still think you have to tell someone. Who would be next in line to tell about something that involves You-Know-Who?"

Harry and Hermione glanced at each other, Harry giving a disgusted snarl as he realized the answer.

Hermione could instantly tell by the look on his face what his answer was. "Harry, he is the next most senior member of the Order who's here," she rationalized, waiting for the explosion.

"What?" Sirius asked. "Who is it?"

"Snape," Harry groaned.

"Snivellus?" Sirius growled. "He's your only option? Couldn't you tell Filius? He may not be an Order member, but he is still a head of house at Hogwarts."

"But that's just it," Hermione argued. "He isn't a full member of the Order. He isn't aware of what they're doing, and probably wouldn't know the significance of what Harry saw, if there was any. Unfortunately, Harry, Snape is probably our only option for the time being."

"But do I really have to tell anyone?" Harry whined. "I mean, nothing came of the vision, you're safe, so everything's just fine, right?"

"Harry," Sirius began seriously, "I'd be the last person on Earth to suggest you go and visit the Great Big Bat, but I really think you should this time. You never know, he might be able to figure something out based on that little bit you actually saw. Not bloody likely though, he is a giant berk, remember?"

"But he is still a professor," Hermione added. "Come on, Harry. We need to tell him while everything's still fresh in your mind." She stood and tugged at Harry's arm. "Goodbye Sirius," she said as she pulled Harry to his feet.

"Wait, Harry," Sirius began, "put the mirror in your pocket. I want to hear what Snivellus has to say. I just can't seem to get enough of his silky voice," he finished sarcastically.

"Didn't need to hear that, Sirius," Harry moaned in disgust as he placed the small mirror in one the deep pockets in his cousin's oversized trousers.

Having never relinquished her hold on his arm, Hermione pulled Harry toward the portrait-hole, just as Ron descended the stairs once more.

"Where're you two off to?" he asked, taking in the look of horror on Harry's face.

"We're going to see Snape," Hermione replied. "We're going to tell him about Harry's vision and see if he knows anything about it."

At Hermione's explanation, Ron spun on his heels and walked back up the stairs. "Right…well, you can leave me out of that," he muttered as he climbed the stairs once again, leaving the other two to exit the common room as he did so.

* * *

><p>"Do I have to go in?" Harry whined for the fourth time since leaving Gryffindor tower. The two friends stood outside of the potion master's office, deep in the dungeons of the castle. They had been standing outside the door for several minutes, Harry refusing to enter. "He'll just criticize and ridicule me like usual," he continued to argue, repeating the same point he had been arguing since they left the common room.<p>

"Are you just going to stand out here all day, Harry?" Hermione asked, crossing her arms over her chest. "You've got to go in there sooner or later. Or at the very least, think of Sirius. He's listening in through his mirror, probably getting bored at our arguing."

"Not bloody likely," Sirius's garbled voice seeped through Harry's trousers. "I'm actually quite entertained right now. You two bicker like an old married couple."

"No, that would be Ron and Hermione," Harry argued.

"No, they argue almost like enemies," Sirius countered. "Insults are thrown in those arguments. You two just seem to be able to bicker almost good-naturedly. It's really quite fun to listen to."

"Anyway," Hermione said, completely discounting Sirius's observations, "we should just go in and get it over with. You do that, then you won't have to stand out here forever dreading it. It will eventually be over," she reasoned.

Harry had to admit that she had a point. It would be easier to get it over with than fear it forever. However, that would not make dealing with Snape any easier.

"Fine," he grumbled. "Let's get it over with."

He pushed off from against the wall he had been leaning against, and strode towards the door, looking more confident than he appeared. Turning the handle, he pushed the door open, revealing the dark, dank office of Severus Snape.

"Potter," the potions master growled, looking up from the stack of parchment on his desk. "I was wondering how long it would take you to come in here. For a moment, I thought you might have forgotten how to use a doorknob. But," he added, seeing Hermione enter as well, "it looks like you brought Granger with you, so I would assume that at least one of you knows how to open a door."

The two newcomers to the office closed the door behind themselves and stepped forward toward the professor's desk.

"Now, I thought the term was ended and I would be free of your tripe, Potter. Will you kindly explain why you've chosen to darken my office with your presence?"

Biting back a retort, Harry glared at his potions professor.

"I've had another vision, _sir_," he said, the last word laced with disrespect.

Snape dropped his quill on his desk and looked at Harry with a curious scowl, forcing Hermione to wonder how it was possible to scowl curiously.

"And what, pray tell, did this vision entail?" he asked dryly.

"Well, I was in the same place as the vision involving Mr. Weasley. But I kept going this time, through a door into a big room with a lot of shelves in it. At one point, I stopped and saw Sirius on the floor, injured, being held down by Voldemort-"

"Do not speak the Dark Lord's name!" Snape commanded.

"Anyway, I saw Voldemort," Harry continued, purposefully ignoring Snape's orders, "and he told me that I could still save Sirius if I came to where they were, the Department of Mysteries. Then I woke up on the floor of the Great Hall."

Snape stared at Harry blankly as he finished. "That's it?" he asked. "No insight into the Dark Lord's plans? No real new information to speak of?"

"Well, no," Harry admitted. "But I think it might have been a trap. Sirius ended up being just fine and-"

"Of course it was a trap you imbecile! The Dark Lord does not do things idly. Everything he does, every move he makes is with a purpose. You," he pointed at Harry as he stood from his seat, "have been given a great gift; a connection to the mind of the greatest dark wizard in recent history. Yet you squander it like some petulant schoolboy! You lack the mental discipline to take full advantage of the gift you possess. If you were truly disciplined, you would have learned occlumency long ago, and would have been able to turn the tables on the Dark Lord. But you let your impulsiveness and petty grudges get in the way."

"_My_ petty grudges?" Harry growled. "I'm not the one who has been condescending since day one. I'm not the one who, for five years, has attacked and ridiculed the son of my rival. A rival who has been dead for fifteen years!"

"Get out," Snape snapped as he picked up his wand from the desk. With a subtle flick, the door slammed open. "Get out of my office. The term is over, Potter. You have no place here."

"Gladly, _sir_," Harry snarled as he spun and strode out the door, Hermione walking quickly to keep up.

Once they were out in the corridor once more, the door to the office slammed shut. A faint click was heard as the locking mechanism fell into place.

"Did you have to antagonize him like that?" Hermione asked as they made their way out of the maze-like dungeons.

"_Me_ antagonize _him_?" Harry balked. "He's the one who started it!"

Hermione threw her hands up in her own defense. "Well at the very least you can admit that it could have gone better," she amended.

"Yeah, if he wasn't so immature," Harry replied. He pulled the mirror out of his pocket as they walked. "Did you catch all that, Sirius?"

Sirius's scowl was the first thing Harry and Hermione noticed. "That wanker doesn't know when to let bygones be bygones, does he?" Sirius griped.

"No," Harry responded, "but at least we told somebody. What he does with that information is up to him. But we've done our job for now."

Suddenly, in the background behind Sirius, a horrendous screeching could be heard. "Right," he said, looking behind him, "Harry, if you need me, you know how to get in contact with me. But it looks like Kreacher has riled up the portrait of my mother again. I've got to find a new elf," he muttered as his image vanished.

Harry tucked the mirror back into his pocket as he and Hermione reached Gryffindor tower once more. As the portrait swung open, they realized that they would not be returning to a peaceful, quiet environment. The common room, which had previously been empty, was now full of all of the other fifth-year students, who had previously been taking their exam. The students from other years were still in class.

"Harry, mate!" Seamus shouted in his thick Irish accent from one of the sofas. "Feelin' better? Ron told us what happened." A look of horror crossed Harry's face at this comment. "That must've been a nasty fall, hittin' your head'n all. Must've been the stress from the test?"

Glancing at Hermione and breathing a sigh of relief, Harry spoke. "Yeah, I guess I just stressed out too much. Got lightheaded, and I guess I just blacked out. All I remember is waking up on the floor."

"But at least they'll let you finish your exam, right?" Dean Thomas asked from the other side of the room. "I mean, you couldn't have been finished that quickly, could you? You're not Hermione or anything."

"Hey!" Hermione screeched. "I resent that. You make me sound like a machine that just cranks out answers!"

Dean shrugged in response, irritating Hermione further. Seeing this, Harry decided to intervene.

"Yeah, I wasn't done. But I haven't talked to any of the proctors to find out what I can do. I don't think a student collapsing during one of the exams is too common…"

"You might be surprised, Harry," Ron piped up from the back of the room. "Bill, Charlie, _and_ Percy all came home with stories after their O.W.L.s about some poor fellow who panicked and had some kind of problem. Some of them passed out, some of them vomited. I'm sure there's some kind of procedure in place when something like this happens."

Looking at the clock on the wall, Harry saw that the time was approaching one o'clock in the afternoon.

"You know," he began, "as much as this is interesting to talk about, I'm really knackered. Must've been all the excitement or something. I'm gonna head up and kip out for a while."

He felt the eyes of everyone in the room follow him as he climbed the stairs to the boys' dormitory. However, he had no sooner sat down on the side of his bed to remove his shoes, than he heard the door open and close once more.

"You're not really tired, are you?" Hermione asked softly as she sat down on the side of the bed next to him.

"Not really. I mean, I am exhausted from everything that's happened today, but I don't think I could get any sleep. I just wanted to get away from everyone."

"They weren't trying to pressure you," she reassured.

"I know. But I've never liked attention, you know that."

"I know. That's one of the things I like about you. You've always had the eyes of the world on you, yet you've never wanted it. It makes you real, makes you…just Harry."

Harry snorted at her phrasing, earning him a light slap on the arm. "What?" he asked defensively. "I wasn't under the impression I was 'real.' I always thought I was fake."

"You know what I mean."

"But I just needed to get away from everything," Harry repeated. "This year has been one thing after another, and I haven't had a single minute to breath and be…'just Harry.'"

"I'm sorry, Harry," Hermione offered honestly. "What can I do to help?"

Harry's eyes widened at her offer. "I wasn't asking for your help," he explained quickly. "Not that I don't appreciate the offer or anything. I was just explaining what I was doing."

"That's fine. But _I_ was just trying to support you and do what any friend should do. But I think we're getting too sappy and melodramatic," she pointed out. "What're you going to do now?"

"I don't know. Do you think the examination board will let me retake the exam?"

"It's always a possibility. I'm sure if you explained the circumstances as they really happened, they'd have no choice. But with the school under Umbridge's control, not to mention her influence at the Minsitry, I don't think that'd be a good idea. Maybe they'll see reason though and let you sit for the exam again if you tell them the same story you told everyone downstairs."

"It might as well be worth a try," Harry conceded. "But aside from that, I think I'll just get ready to leave for the year. The Express leaves in a few days."

"Do you know what you're gonna be doing this summer?" Hermione asked curiously.

Harry shrugged. "I don't know specifics. All I know is that Dumbledore isn't around right now, so I don't plan on going back to the Dursley's. I'm sure Sirius will let me stay at Grimmauld Place with him, but the thought of staying in that glorified mortuary isn't all that appealing. Maybe I'll find a way to get out or something."

"But you will write this summer though, right?"

"I don't think I'll have much of a choice, will I?" he asked playfully. "I mean, out of the five years we've known each other, during two of the summers I haven't been able to write anything, so I don't think you'll let me not write this year."

"You can count on it, Harry," she said with mock seriousness.

"So long as you don't keep pushing me to get my homework done, we'll be fine."

She was thoughtful for a moment. "So if I promise not to pester you about homework, will you write more?"

"You know full well I would write you anyway," he answered. "But the homework bit might help," he finished jokingly.

"Then its settled," she acquiesced. "This summer, I'll try not to pester you about your homework, and we'll see how it goes, alright?"

"You know, there's a reason you're my best friend," Harry said, shooting her a sickeningly sweet smile and squeezing her shoulder.

She squirmed away, chuckling. "When you're done joking around, it's about time for lunch. I'm getting hungry, so I'll start heading down there now. You coming?"

"Just give me a few minutes," he replied. "I'll be down soon."

Hermione rose from the bed and made her way toward the door. With her hand on the knob, she turned back to Harry. "Harry?" she called, causing him to look up at her curiously. But she did not respond immediately, instead pausing for a moment.

"Yeah?" he asked after a moment.

She gave him a small smile. "I'll see you down there," she finished finally before opening the door and leaving the room.

* * *

><p><em>June 12, 2011<em>

_8:28 AM_

In the end, Harry was given the opportunity to retake the History O.W.L., though not without considerable persuasion on his part. However, despite the extra day of studying time he was given as a result of his situation, there were still a number of questions that he did not have an answer for. Still, his relief was palpable once he finished the exam, as he could finally consider his eventful fifth year at Hogwarts complete.

The morning following his exam was the last day of the term, the day that the Hogwarts Express was due to leave for King's Cross. As Harry sat down for breakfast at the Gryffindor table, his dream of a peaceful, normal summer had never seemed closer.

"Harry, have you seen this?" Hermione asked from behind her copy of the _Daily Prophet_ which had just been delivered along with the rest of the school's owl post.

Harry looked up from his plate to see her push the paper toward him.

"It's on the front," she elaborated as he picked up the paper.

There, stretching across the top of the page, was a single headline. "Aurors Dead in Ministry," it read, in large, bold print. Beneath it lay a stock photograph of the Ministry atrium, followed by the story itself.

"It says that four Aurors were found dead in the Department of Mysteries two days ago," Hermione explained as she saw Harry begin to read."

"Why're they so late in writing about it then?" Ron asked through a mouthful of food. "News that big shouldn't take two days to come out."

"Ron," Hermione began patiently, "I'm sure that there's been some kind of investigation over the past couple of days. That's why it's taken so long. Besides, two days isn't that long to wait for government news anyway."

"Well, at least we know it wasn't just a dream I had then," Harry opined, looking for the positives. "Which means that there's something about the Department of Mysteries that's special to Voldemort." A couple of gasps could be heard from around the trio, causing Harry to roll his eyes. "Why can't they learn that fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself?" he asked rhetorically.

"Still quoting Dumbledore, Harry?" Ron asked, receiving a nod in response. "Where do you think he is, anyway? Do you think anyone's heard anything since he left?"

Harry shrugged. "I haven't heard anything. But I almost couldn't care less. Now I don't have to go back to the bloody Dursleys this summer. Thank Merlin for small favors, eh?"

"But you are coming over to the Burrow this summer too, right?" Ron asked. "Ginny's been wanting to get to know you better and-"

"Honestly, Ron, I'm in the same house that she is. If she wanted to get to know me better, it wouldn't be too hard. Besides, I've spent every summer for the past few years at the Burrow or with her, so she's had plenty of chances. That's not to say I won't come over this summer, but I was thinking of spending at least some of the summer with Sirius. I haven't really had too much time to get to know him. He really is the last family I have left…even though we aren't related that is."

Ron, unable to find anything worthwhile to say, simply nodded his head in understanding.

Harry, for his part, took a long look around the Great Hall, pausing briefly at several faces he recognized. "It's hard to believe we've only got two more years of this place," he commented somewhat sadly. "But you know what? I've got a feeling that this is going to be the best summer yet."

End of Chapter 2

A/N: The overall plot is starting to seep in here. The main purpose of these first two chapters was to prevent Harry from going to the Ministry. Sirius not being killed is just a pleasant side effect that I get to play with. But then what effects could Harry not going to the Ministry have? You'll have to wait and find out.

I wanted to give you this chapter quickly after posting the first one, in order to help establish this story instead of having it sit with only a short first chapter. The fact that the response to the first chapter was so overwhelmingly positive only helped matters.

I also added the category of "humor" to the story. While this is not a comedy story by any stretch of the imagination, it is going to be fun. And since I don't think that "humor" and "comedy" are the same thing, I felt that that was an appropriate descriptor. So stay tuned for more coming soon!


	3. You're My Best Friend

Author's Note: Once again, thank you all very much for the overwhelmingly positive reviews and reception that I received for chapter 2. This chapter continues from where chapter 2 left off, albeit later that day when after the Hogwarts Express has returned to London.

I really like the way one of the reviews has put the plot so far. Edmond O'Donald, in their review, mentioned the entire concept of the "ripple" effect, as I like to call it, and that, due to such a small change such as Hermione kissing Harry on the cheek, Harry stopped to actually think. As a result, two changes have occurred: Harry did not go to the Ministry and Sirius is still alive, and Harry's relationship with Hermione has deepened. In this chapter, those two changes are not inexorably linked, but instead branch slightly. Chapter 3 focuses more on the Harry/Hermione relationship, rather than the overall plot of what the consequences of not going to the Ministry are. Chapter 4 will deal with that much more as it brings both story threads back together.

Another thing I want to talk about is chapter length. When I was writing The Divine Plan, my chapters started off very short (about 1,000 words), and grew to over 22,000 at one point. Now, while I don't expect them to get that long in this story, there will be some variation in chapter length. Previously, I wrote my chapters to reach a certain length. Now I'm writing them to reach a certain point in the story, since the entire plot has been developed and the story outlined completely. However, I do want to ask what you, the reader, think is a good chapter length. As I keep writing further into the story, I'm finding that the chapters seem to fall within the range of 9,000 to 12,000 words. I think that might be a comfortable length, but how about you?

I do also want to talk briefly about the entire chapter-naming concept. I've had a couple of guesses about the name of this chapter, however none of them were correct, which leads me to think I need to hint at them better. The reason for this is to give you a teaser of what's to come, without actually telling you. If you are able to correctly guess the name of the next chapter, it will tell you a bit about that chapter. So, as a result, I will try to give better hints at the end of each chapter as to what the title may be for the next one. That said, I do wholeheartedly recommend that everyone listen to the song that is in the name of each chapter. They're all great songs.

All of that aside, I want to thank you for giving this story the attention it has received and I hope that you all continue to enjoy it. If you do, please leave me a review to say so. There's nothing a reviewer likes more than a glowing review, and there's nothing else that can push them to continue to write like one.

Chapter 3

**You're My Best Friend**

_June 12, 2011_

_5:19 PM_

The English countryside passed in a blur as Hermione stared out the window of her parent's new Jaguar XJ. Her parents had told her about the purchase of it as they walked out of Kings Cross station in London, her mother describing it as a foolish splurge on the part of her father. But Hermione paid it no attention. Now, as they drove along the M4 toward their home in Swindon, she couldn't help but be lost in thought.

"You've been quiet, Hermione," her father, thirty-eight year old Richard Granger, observed, as he looked in his rear-view mirror. "What's the matter?"

"It's nothing," she replied curtly, almost more forcefully than she wanted.

Her mother, thirty-seven year old Ellen, turned in her seat to look at her daughter. "That's a lie, Hermione, and you know it," she said. "Every year as we drive home, you spend the entire trip telling us about whatever crazy adventures you and those boys of yours got into. This year though, you haven't said more than two words. And you just said those a few seconds ago when you replied to your father. So really, what's wrong?"

Hermione sighed loudly and turned away from the window. She had always been easy for her mother to read. But even then, Hermione had to admit that she was currently being pretty transparent.

"It's Harry," she began.

"It usually is," her mother replied under her breath. "What's he gone and done this time?"

"Nothing, and that's the problem. Mum, he's had such a hard year this year. I told you how he saw Voldemort come back last year. Well, the Ministry wouldn't believe him, so they sent this awful woman to teach Defense this year. But she spent most of her time goading and even torturing Harry! On top of that, at the end of term, Harry had a vision that his godfather was being tortured and held hostage. Now it looks like it was a trap to get Harry to leave the school and try and rescue Sirius."

"Sirius? Oh, that's right, that's his godfather you told us about a couple of years ago, right?" Hermione nodded. "So what happened? Did he end up trying to go and save him?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, he ended up listening to reason-"

"You mean you, right?" Richard interjected.

"Well, I was able to talk him down a bit. But that's not the point. He gets stuck in the middle of everything, and it's not his fault. I can't help but feel sorry for him. And then he has to go back to those wretched relatives of his, who treat him like dirt and step all over him."

"And why can't he stay with his godfather?" Ellen asked logically.

"Actually, this year he's going to. Ever since the Ministry ousted Professor Dumbledore as Headmaster, he hasn't been around. It's been odd really that he hasn't come back at all, since he's been the one who's forced Harry to go back to the Dursleys every year. With him gone, Harry can go wherever he wants for the summer, so he's going to stay with Sirius this year."

"Then what's bothering you? I know you say he's had a hard year, but it looks like the summer at least is looking up for Harry. I'd think that'd make you feel at least a bit better."

"Oh, mum, you don't understand. I don't feel bad or depressed or any nonsense like that. I was just thinking. I am happy that Harry will be able to finally have a good summer with Sirius. But I was kind of thinking about how I could make it better for him."

"And? What did you come up with?"

Hermione was hesitant to answer. But her mother, who was still turned around in her seat staring at her questioningly, as well as an intrigued glance from her father in the mirror, convinced her to answer.

"Remember how you sent me a letter about our summer plans last month?" she began. "And remember how you talked about how you had planned a holiday to the States next month?"

"I don't like where this is going…" Richard interjected.

"Well," Hermione continued, undeterred, "I was thinking that we could invite Harry to come along with us. He's never really admitted it, but I don't think he's ever been on a real holiday before, outside of the World Cup last year, and I figured we could help him out there and make his summer more fun and not keep him cooped up in some dark, horrid hole of a house for a few months with nobody to talk to except-"

"Hermione, you're rambling," Ellen interrupted. "But are you sure those are the real reasons you want to invite him to come with us?"

"Of course," Hermione replied, scandalized. "We're going to Florida at the end of July, and I thought that the change of scenery would do him nicely. I just think he needs some time to get his mind off of all of the pressures he places on himself. Also, his birthday is July 31st, which would make it perfect, since we'd be on holiday for it. It would be a nice birthday gift for him."

Ellen turned back around as Richard turned off of the M4 and onto the A419 for the final leg of their journey home. The peaceful scenery along the motorway had turned to a much more urban landscape, as the Grangers entered the outskirts of Swindon.

Richard and Ellen exchanged glances, seeming to communicate silently.

"We'll think about it," Ellen said finally, addressing Hermione. "But we just want to be sure that there isn't something else at play here."

"He's my best friend, mum," Hermione groaned. "I mean, outside of the Yule Ball last year, I don't think he's ever thought of me as a girl. I've always just been one of his mates. So I don't think you'll have a problem there."

"I wasn't talking about him," Ellen responded with a smile. "I was talking about you."

"He's my best friend," Hermione repeated.

Richard had turned off of the A419 at this point, and was beginning to enter the suburb of Covingham, where the Grangers lived.

"If you're sure," Ellen replied skeptically. "Then we'll think about it. It is a big decision on our part. You have no idea how expensive travelling abroad has gotten lately, what with petrol prices shooting up. But we'll think about it."

The car pulled up in front of a large two-story, upper middle-class brick home with a well-manicured lawn. Richard parked in the garage, next to Ellen's four year old BMW M5, and turned off the engine. Hermione, without saying a word to her parents, exited the car and went straight into the house.

"She's sure in a mood," Richard observed as he opened the boot to retrieve Hermione's trunk.

"I don't know what her problem is," Ellen concurred, "but I'll find out later."

* * *

><p><em>June 12, 2011<em>

_7:44 PM_

Later that night, as the sun set over Covingham, Hermione sat on the edge of her bed sorting through the clothes from her school trunk. Already, her school books had been remanded to the large bookshelf that sat next to her bed, and the pile of clothes that needed washing continued to grow on the floor. As she sorted, the door to her room opened and Ellen walked in and closed it again behind herself.

"Can we talk?" she asked as she sat down on the bed next to Hermione.

"I'm assuming from your tone that you two decided that Harry couldn't come with us?" Hermione assumed without looking up at her mother.

"Now, I never said anything of the kind," Ellen replied forcefully. "But whatever decision we make will be based on what we talk about in here. So don't go taking that attitude with me, young lady."

"Sorry," Hermione apologized. "But I just thought you were coming in here to shoot down my idea. That's not something I'm used to, you know," she added as a joke.

"I know, but it helps develop humility," Ellen retorted. "But anyway, I came up here so that we could talk away from your father. He can be somewhat…intimidating when it comes to matters like this. So I thought we could have some time to talk alone."

"Oh, Merlin," Hermione moaned. "Not this again."

"Yes this again. See, that's exactly what I want to get at. You live in a world that is completely separated from our own. A world that we can't follow you into, with a culture all its own. When you say 'oh, Merlin,' that's exactly my point. We don't know enough about this world of yours, and it feels like we're losing you to it, even if we aren't really. I know you talk to us about what goes on in school and politically in the wizarding world, but it still doesn't feel the same to us. And now that you want to invite a boy to go on vacation with us, it feels like we're losing another part of you."

"So what do you want to know?"

"It's not what I want to know, Hermione. It's just that our relationship isn't what it was five years ago before we sent you to Hogwarts. We would never try to take that part of you away. But we just want to have the same relationship we used to have with you."

Hermione was silent as she looked out her large bay window at the quickly darkening sky, lit only by the glowing lights of civilization and the rising moon.

"So I thought we could start with Harry," Ellen offered.

"He's my best friend," Hermione repeated for the third time that day.

"That may be. But I have a feeling that he means more to you than that."

Hermione didn't reply, and was instead silent once more.

"Is that really so bad to admit?" Ellen prodded.

"There's nothing to admit. Did I want him to ask me to the Yule Ball last year? Yes, I did. Any girl would have been lucky to have him ask her, he is the Boy-Who-Lived after all. But he didn't, so that was that."

"And that's it?"

"What do you want me to say, mum? That I fancy him? Well, I don't. I'll be honest, I do like him differently than I do Ron, but I don't fancy either of them. I just happen to like Harry more."

Ellen sighed. "Hermione, I'm going to be blunt. Based on how much you talk about the boy, I would say that, at least by all outward appearances, you do fancy him, no matter what you say. Now, that may or may not be the case, but Harry obviously means a lot to you, and the fact that you want to invite him on holiday with us only reinforces that. Would you invite Ron to go with us instead?" Hermione looked pensive. "You don't have to answer that. Just think about it. Now, I'm not trying to be accusatory and say that you _do _actually fancy the bloke. But even without really having met the boy outside of back in the summer before your second year, I can tell that you have a very strong friendship. And that is the perfect foundation for a good relationship. I can tell you that from experience, since your father and I met when we were about your age. We were friends first, good friends at that. But we didn't start a relationship for several years, and it has really seemed to work out perfectly for us. I'm not telling you that that always works, because it doesn't. But I think you should think about what you want out of your relationships, with both boys. Do you want to stay friends like you are with both Harry and Ron, or do you want to try and deepen and strengthen one of those friendships? There is no right or wrong answer to this, only what you feel is best."

With that, Ellen rose from the bed and placed a kiss atop Hermione's head, before making her way to the door.

"Think about it," she concluded as she opened the door and stepped into the hall outside. "Goodnight, Hermione."

* * *

><p>Ellen Granger crawled into bed beside her husband later that night, leaving the bedside lamp on as she did so. She sat against the headboard as she fiddled with her earrings, eventually placing them on the table next to her.<p>

"So, how did it go?" Richard asked to her left as he sat up against the headboard.

"Well, I can tell you one thing for certain. She fancies Harry. She's either denying it or just doesn't know it yet."

"Just great," Richard mumbled. "Lord help us when she does know it."

Ellen slapped him on his upper arm for his remark.

"Hey!" he cried softly, more for his injured pride than arm. "I was just telling the truth. With the way she fawns over that boy now, we'll have a dickens of a time once they really do get together."

"So you see it happening too?" Ellen asked, raising a single eyebrow.

"I think it'll happen eventually, if she keeps up the way she has," he admitted, "but I don't have to like it."

"Well I think having him come on holiday would be the perfect chance to get to know him then. What do we really know about Harry Potter aside from what Hermione has told us? Nothing really. I mean, we met him for a few seconds in Diagon Alley a couple of years ago, but that was it."

"And if we take Hermione's word for it, we would think the boy was next in line to be Pope or something. I see where you're going with this. But there's something inherently wrong with our teenage girl asking a boy to come on holiday with her. That's something that you do when you're in a relationship. Or at least, that's what we did when we went to Verbier with your parents after we got together. Then there's the cost factor."

"Oh, don't even go there, Richard," Ellen scolded. "That's not a valid excuse and you know it."

"But you used it with Hermione in the car!" he protested.

"That was because I needed an excuse so that we wouldn't need to give her an answer right away."

"And I need an excuse now!"

"And it doesn't work now," Ellen retorted calmly. "You know full well we could afford to take him on the trip. Yes, travel has gotten expensive, but we can afford it. Think of it this way: if we can afford that bloody car of yours, then we can afford to take an extra person on a week-long trip to Florida."

"So that's that then?" he asked tentatively. "Don't I get any say in this?"

"Oh, stop trying to be the overprotective father, Richard. It doesn't suit you. I remember how you felt when you asked daddy if you could ask me out. Scared out of your wits, you were, all because he had a shotgun hanging over the mantle. Well, you work with drills and knives all day, so how do you think a young man would feel if you started playing the overprotective father? Do you want our daughter to grow up to be an old spinster?"

"Of course not! I just think that she needs to be careful about who she chooses, and she deserves to have a perfect gentleman, not some riffraff off the streets."

"Then you can make your decision when we're on holiday, because Harry is coming with us."

"Fine," Richard grumbled, sliding down under the covers.

"I'll just go tell Hermione quickly," Ellen announced, rising out of the bed once more. "I'll be right back."

* * *

><p>Hermione found herself still sitting on her bed, but now against her headboard, reading what appeared to be her well-worn copy of <em>The Standard Book of Spells Grade 5<em>. However, when Ellen opened her door, she saw Hermione close the book quickly, blushing slightly as she placed the book next to her. Ellen immediately knew she wasn't reading her textbook. But she brushed that thought aside.

"Hermione?" she asked as she poked her head into the room. "The answer is yes." With that, she retreated from the room and closed the door softly.

With a huge grin on her face, Hermione jumped off of her bed and rifled through her small oak desk on the other side of the room. A moment later, with paper and a pen in hand, she sat down at the desk and began to write.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, Harry sighed as he dropped his quill on the desk and read the letter he had just written.<p>

_Hermione,_

_I told you I would write to you this summer, and you know I always keep my promises. But I thought I would surprise you by writing first. So what do you think? Are you surprised?_

_Anyway, I just wanted to see how your summer was going, even though we just talked earlier today. What're you planning on doing this summer? You never told us, instead you were more worried about what I was doing._

_Feel free to keep Hedwig as long as you want or to use her if you have any letters you need to send. I think she likes it better when she can keep busy, instead of being trapped in this manky old house._

_I hope you write back soon,_

_Harry_

Reading the letter over again to make sure it didn't sound too desperate or needy, Harry rolled it up and tied it to Hedwig's leg.

"Take this to Hermione, girl. I'm sure you know where she lives, so I'm not going to even bother telling you."

He opened the window of his room on the third floor of Grimmauld Place, and let his snowy owl take to the night sky. Harry stared out into the inky blackness as the white speck disappeared into the night, before he closed the window once more and glanced at the old clock on the wall. Noticing that it was nearing eleven at night, he climbed into his bed and turned out the light before tucking his arm under the pillow and closing his eyes.

* * *

><p><em>June 13, 2011<em>

_6:02 AM_

Harry awoke early the next morning to a tapping on the window. Rising groggily from his bed, Harry stretched and yawned loudly before walking over to the window and opening it to allow Hedwig back inside.

"You're back soon," he commented tiredly, scratching himself idly.

Hedwig hooted softly before offering her leg, which held a piece of lined muggle paper. Harry untied it and dug around in his trunk to find an owl treat. After he eventually found one and gave it to his owl, Harry sat down on the bed and unrolled the note. He immediately recognized Hermione's neat script and began to read.

_Dear Harry,_

_After we talked the other night in your dormitory about your summer plans, I got to thinking about what else we could do this summer. It seems like we don't get to see each other that much over the summer, except for last year when we were at Number 12, and the year before at the World Cup. I figured it would be easier to get together since you were staying with Sirius this summer, so that got me thinking about what we could do._

_Anyway, about a month ago, I received some post at school from my parents, telling me about the holiday they had planned for this summer. My parents are taking two weeks off from their practice at the end of July for holiday, and for the last week in July, we are going over to the States, specifically Florida, in order to visit the beaches there, which are supposed to be nicer than the ones in France (which are the nicest beaches I've been to). But my dad also has this unnatural desire to visit the Disneyworld park there as well, so he thought this would be a good chance._

_So, to get to the point, since I know how much you hate reading, I talked with my parents earlier today on the drive home. I asked them if there was room for one more on our trip. They said yes! So, I wanted to ask you: do you want to come with us on our trip to the States next month? You can think of it as part of your birthday gift if you want, or even as something to celebrate it. I know you don't normally celebrate your birthday, but I really think you should, Harry. You deserve to do something special, and I want to help with that._

_So, what do you say? Do you want to come with us?_

_As I was writing this letter, Hedwig tapped on my window to bring me your letter. Perfect timing, Harry! Now I can send this letter back with Hedwig instead of using the muggle post like I was originally going to do._

_And yes, I was surprised by your letter. I never thought you had it in you to write something without being prompted. Just kidding! But what was really funny was how I had already pretty much answered your letter before I got it, when I talked about our planned holiday._

_So, Harry, please think about coming with us. I really want you to come and keep me company. Not that my parents are bad company, or that I only want you to come to keep me company. Ugh! You know, it's sometimes really hard to express what you are thinking in writing, even for me! But I hope you understand what I mean._

_Anyway, Harry, please think about it, and PLEASE write back. I hope to hear from you soon._

_Love,_

_Hermione_

Harry placed the letter on the bed next to him and stared out the window. There was no question he wanted to go on holiday with Hermione and her family. The only problem he faced was how to break it to Sirius. His godfather had been ecstatic to learn that Harry wanted to spend the summer with him for the first time. But to tell him that he wanted to go somewhere else, to spend time with someone else, even for a week, might be difficult.

But even more concerning for Harry was the way Hermione had signed the letter. He kept glancing over at it as it sat open on the bed, his eyes focusing on that single word at the end, "Love." What did that mean? Was it just there for the sake of formality? Or did it actually mean something? He needed to ask Sirius.

He looked up at the clock on the wall to find that it was just after eight in the morning, so Harry figured that Sirius should be awake at this point.

Harry crept down the stairs to the main floor in an attempt to stay quiet so as not to wake the portrait of Sirius's insane mother, Walburga Black. He glanced over at the curtains covering the painting as he passed, and breathed a sigh of relief when no sound came from behind them.

He snuck into the kitchen and closed the door behind himself. As he did so, he noticed Sirius sitting at the table just off of the kitchen, his head buried in that morning's copy of _The Daily Prophet_, sipping a cup of coffee.

"Morning, Sirius," Harry said, interrupting the older man from his reading.

"Hey, pup," Sirius replied brightly, "you're up early. I would've thought you'd want to sleep in on your first day away from Hogwarts."

Harry shrugged as he sat down in the chair next to Sirius. "Yeah, well that kind of went out the window when Hedwig started _tapping_ on the window."

"So you got some post early in the morning? What ignorant berk was inconsiderate enough to-"

"Hermione," Harry interrupted, effectively quieting Sirius.

"Ah," Sirius responded. "And what did the enchanting Ms. Granger want this morning?"

"Sirius," Harry began as he rolled his eyes, "would you stop with the creepy adjectives when you talk about Hermione? You're old enough to be her father, so she's way too young for you. Doesn't it seem in the least bit creepy when you talk like that?"

Sirius shrugged. "Not really. I'm just doing it for your benefit is all. But I've also learned that that is the way to address any lovely young ladies. It's just proper decorum, if you will."

Harry snorted. "Sirius, you wouldn't recognize proper decorum unless it was blonde and was wearing a top that was three sizes too small," he joked.

"That's not true!" Sirius objected with a broad smile, "I tend to notice if the top is only two sizes too small. I just assume that if a woman is wearing clothes that are several sizes too small, then she must be wearing old clothes since she can't afford new ones. That must mean she needs my help, and I'm all to happy to provide it." Harry rolled his eyes in disgust as he snorted lighty at Sirius's uncouth joke. "Anyway, enough of that. What did she have to say in her letter?"

"Sirius, are you really trying to get me to develop your…tendencies? Or are you just trying to boast?" Harry asked rhetorically. "Anyway, she actually asked me if I wanted to go on holiday with her and her family at the end of July for my birthday."

Sirius finally put the paper down and looked at Harry carefully. "Enough joking around," he announced.

"That's a relief," Harry replied sarcastically.

Sirius ignored Harry's remark. "What do you really want? Do you want to go with her?"

"Well, I don't want you to be left alone here if I do. I know how much you've been looking forward to this summer, and-"

"This isn't about me, cub. This is about you. What do you want? I couldn't care less about my own happiness, for lack of a better term. I want you to be happy. Besides, Moony comes and visits every now and then, and there are the Order meetings as well, so I'll have company if you want to go. So what do you want to do?"

"Well, I do kinda want to go…" Harry admitted.

"Great! Then it's settled. Go and write her back and tell her you'd love to go with them. Where are they going anyway?"

"Only you, Sirius, would give approval to go on holiday with someone else without knowing where they are going. But there is something else I wanted to talk about." He pulled out the letter and showed it to Sirius. Sirius took it and began to read it over. A moment later, he finished and set it down on the table atop the morning's paper, and took a sip of his coffee.

"So what's the problem?" he asked finally.

"Look at how she signed the letter!"

Sirius looked again, and looked back up at Harry questioningly. "Hermione?" he asked.

"No," Harry replied as he rolled his eyes. He pointed to the word "Love" on the letter.

"Ah, that," Sirius said significantly. "Well, you know her better than I do, so what do you think it means?"

"I don't know. That's why I'm asking you. You keep talking about all of your womanizing experience, so that's why I came to you."

"Why, Harry, I'm touched. I never thought all of my selfish pleasure quests would come in handy so many years later. I only wish Moony was here to hear you say that, he'd be eating his own words."

Harry sighed heavily. As much as he enjoyed the back and forth bantering he and Sirius tended to engage in, it sometimes wore thin, especially when it moved away from the topic at hand.

"But back to what you asked. I think that you might be reading too much into this one word. Could it mean exactly what it says, that she loves you? Yes, that is possible. Is it likely? No. Especially at her age, Hermione would not have made the decision that she loves anyone romantically, especially given her personality. Hermione is one who will overanalyze and debate something until the end of time, if possible. So I don't think it's likely that she's in love with you. Now, that doesn't mean that she doesn't care for you, which is what I think she's trying to say here. I think the real question is whether she uses the same closing when she writes letters to Ron."

"What do you want me to do? Write Ron and ask him if Hermione signs her letters to him with 'Love?' That'll go over well."

"No, I'm not suggesting you do anything of the sort. It was more just something to consider. Listen, Harry, I don't want to jump to conclusions or make any kind of judgment about Hermione and her feelings. That's for her to tell you and for you to figure out. I could be of much more use to you to tell you how to win her over, if that's what you want. But deciphering the female mind? That's beyond me. But if you want my opinion, don't jump to conclusions, and don't read too much into these kind of things. If she likes you, she likes you, end of story. But what's important to us is how you feel. What do you want? Are you reading too much into these things because you subconsciously want her to fancy you? Or are you afraid of ruining a good friendship if one of you develops feelings for the other? Something to think about," he finished, as he picked up his paper once more and pushed the letter back over to Harry. "But I think you should go and write her back and tell her you'd love to go on vacation with her. Actually," he added, snapping his fingers, "now that I think about it, you could even invite the Grangers over here for the first week before their trip. I don't know how much Hermione's parents know about magic, but they might like to spend some time in a magical house and see what it's really like in our world. It would also liven the place up a bit to have some extra bodies in here, don't you think? So go on, go write her back and invite them over here while you're at it. It can be our way of paying them back for taking you on the trip."

Harry folded the letter back up and stuck it in the pocket of his sleep pants, before exiting the kitchen and trudging back upstairs to his room. He sat down at his desk and pulled out a fresh piece of parchment and inked up his quill, and began to write.

_Hermione, _

_Hedwig decided it was a brilliant idea to wake me up this morning with your letter. Mind you, I can think of much worse reasons to be woken up. In fact, I think your letter was pretty brilliant. Speaking of which, I'd love to go with you and your parents on your holiday next month. But are you sure it won't be too much of an imposition? I can pay my own way if it would help, since I'm just excited to be able to go._

_But Sirius had a great idea when I asked him about going with you. He suggested that I invite you and your parents over here to Grimmauld Place for the first week of your parent's time off. I understand that the last thing that they might want to do is spend time in a gloomy place like this, but it is also a magical house. I don't know how much they know about the magical world, but they might want to see how we live. Just a thought._

_So, anyway, yeah, I'd love to go with you on holiday. Just let me know the details and any way I can help out. And let me know what your parents think about coming over here for the first week. It's pretty quiet over here, and any extra company we can get would be nice. If they don't want to though, that's alright too._

_I hope to hear from you soon._

_Take care,_

_Harry_

He reread his letter one last time before rolling it up and tying it to Hedwigs leg.

"You're really getting a workout for this early in the summer, aren't you girl?" he asked.

Hedwig hooted happily in response before Harry opened his window once more and watched her take to the sky. He then turned and dug through the open trunk that lay on his floor for some fresh clothes, so that he could officially start his day.

End of Chapter 3

A/N: Now, as I promised, I'll try and give you a better hint as to what the next chapter title is. This time, it is a pretty obscure song, which means it warrants listening even more. Like I have said before, these are all Queen songs, so we can start there. This song was written by bassist John Deacon and, based on my experience, is a lesser known song. I will say that time plays a part in its title, which should hopefully be enough to indicate which song it is. But if it's not, I will give you one more hint, in the hopes that somebody will be able to get it: it came out in the 1970's.

Now, let's see if anyone can get it. I will mention though that the title of chapter 4 is not _integral_ to the plot of the chapter, but the title of the song is included in the dialogue at one point and does give you an idea as to the overall theme or plot of the chapter.

Another note: yes, I know that Grimmauld Place is protected by the Fidelius Charm and that Dumbledore is the secret keeper. I will mention that Dumbledore will not be making a direct appearance in this story. In fact, he is completely out of the picture due to his exile. However, that is not to say that he won't have an influence on various aspects of the story to come...but I'll leave it at that. Suffice it to say that those of you who are looking forward to a direct confrontation between Harry and Dumbledore will be disappointed. It's just not in he cards in this story. But that doesn't mean it won't be in one of the planned follow-ups to this story. In this universe, Dumbledore is not evil or mean-spirited, or even extremely manipulative. He is manipulative to be sure, but not to the degree that some stories make him out to be. I'll touch on that very briefly in this story, but for the most part, he doesn't play a major role.

So, I'll see you soon with chapter 4, and I hope you enjoyed chapter 3 and leave a review to let me know! Thank you for reading!


	4. In Only Seven Days

Author's Note: In the interest of not putting a giant block of text before the story itself, I have decided to move all of my author's notes from here on out to the end of the chapters. If you are one of the faithful readers of those, please look to the end of each chapter. As a result of this, I will also be discussing events of the chapter as well, so read them at your own risk.

Chapter 4

**In Only Seven Days**

_July 17, 2011_

_11 AM_

Harry Potter glanced at the large grandfather clock on the other side of the sitting room on the first floor of Number 12, Grimmauld Place as he paced around the room. Hermione had written to him to inform him that she and her parents would be arriving via floo at just after eleven in the morning. However, he couldn't help but watch the clock in anticipation, no matter how irrational it seemed.

Sirius, sitting on the sofa nearby, just chuckled at Harry.

"Harry, you know they'll get here eventually. Staring at the clock won't make the time pass any faster. In fact, it'll make it seem slower."

"I know, Sirius," Harry conceded, as he paced the length of the room once more. "But I can't help but wonder if they'll be able to get here or not. We still don't know if they were able to find out the secret from Professor Dumbledore."

"Harry," Sirius began as he shook his head with a smile on his face, "Minerva said that she would get in contact with Albus and get him to write down the secret for the Grangers. She was all too happy to be able to do something useful after being stuck at St. Mungos for so long. So if anyone can do it, she can. Don't worry, we'll find out if she was able to get that to them shortly."

Impatient as he was, Harry had to admit that Sirius had a point. After Hermione had written back saying that her parents would welcome the chance to stay in a magical house, the first concern was how they would get there. Grimmauld Place was still under the protection of the Fidelius Charm, with Albus Dumbledore as the secret keeper. However, due to the fact that he was supposedly unable to be contacted due to his exile from Hogwarts, the biggest issue was how to get the secret to the adult Grangers. Sirius had suggested that they contact Minerva McGonagall, since she always seemed to be the one who was closest to Dumbledore. If anyone could get in contact with him, she could. However, that had been more than a week before, and still they had not heard anything. Harry could only wait with baited breath as the time seemed to creep by. However, reminiscing about the previous few days and their activities did nothing to make the current time move any faster.

Sirius rolled his eyes as Harry continued to pace. "Harry, sit down," he said forcefully, motioning toward the seat next to him.

But before Harry could sit down, the oversized fireplace next to the large clock flared to life, green flames roaring into existence. A second later, a brown blur launched itself from the hearth at Harry, wrapping him in a tight hug.

"Oh, Harry, it's so good to see you!" Hermione exclaimed, clutching him tightly.

Harry quirked an eyebrow at Sirius, who struggled to suppress a grin, as the floo came to life once more, depositing two more figures, one at a time.

The larger of the two, who Harry assumed was Hermione's father, rose and dusted himself off, before taking in the sight of his daughter firmly attached to the figure of a teenage boy. He scowled lightly as he helped his wife up, but neither Harry nor Hermione saw this.

A moment later, Hermione released Harry, who awkwardly straightened his baggy shirt, not making eye contact with Sirius or the Grangers.

"Harry, these are my parents," Hermione began, introducing them to Harry. "This is my mum, Ellen," she said, as Harry shook her hand gently, "and my dad, Richard."

As Harry grasped the older man's hand firmly, Richard spoke. "You can call me Mr. Granger, Harry," he said authoritatively.

Ellen rolled her eyes. "No you can't," she said, contradicting her husband. You can call me Ellen, and you can call _him_ Richard. It was the name he was given, after all."

"So was Granger," Richard argued under his breath.

"Don't pay him any mind, Harry," Ellen said sweetly. "He's just being a right berk. Thinks it's his job to scare any boy that might be friends with his daughter."

"Well, it is. It's in the father's job description, after all."

"I actually happen to agree with you, sir," Harry interjected somewhat nervously, speaking for the first time since the Grangers arrived. Richard's eyes widened at this. He wasn't expecting Harry to agree with him. "I really don't think it's so wrong for a father to want the best for his daughter. Besides, while I can't speak from experience, I expect its loads of fun too."

"I wouldn't know from experience either, Harry," Richard replied, his mood softening. "But the question is, are you going to let me find out?"

Harry didn't say anything in response, but instead turned crimson and looked away as. Hermione saw this and took action.

"Daddy! Is this how you're going to act during our entire holiday? If you keep this up, I wouldn't blame Harry for running away first chance he got!"

Ellen nodded in assent, as Sirius chuckled in the background.

"Oh honestly Hermione," her father replied, "I was just having a bit of fun with the boy! Testing him to see the strength of his character!" Sirius chuckled again at the somewhat flimsy explanation.

"Oh!" Harry exclaimed, hearing his godfather's laugh. "I completely forgot! This immature child over here," he began, gesturing to Sirius, "is my godfather, Sirius Black. And this is grim old place is his humble abode."

Sirius clutched at his chest. "Harry, you wound me," he mocked as he stood to shake the Grangers' hands. "Don't pay attention to Harry here. He likes to throw insults at me like quaffles. It's great fun for the two of us, but might seem a bit mean-spirited when we're around guests."

"Quaffle?" Richard asked, confused.

"Oh! Sorry!" Sirius exclaimed. "I forgot you might not know about quidditch. The quaffle is the ball used in quidditch, the wizarding sport."

"I thought that was the golden snitch?" Ellen asked, eyeing Hermione carefully. "At least that's what Hermione told us when she described the game."

Hermione turned away and blushed, an action that was becoming something of a common occurrence that day.

"Really?" Sirius asked, intrigued as he smiled mischievously. "Well, no matter. The snitch is only one of three different kinds of balls in quidditch. I'll have to explain it to you some time."

Richard and Ellen agreed as they noticed Hermione step away from Harry slightly, putting some distance between the two of them.

"Anyway," Sirius continued loudly, "maybe we should show you around, and teach you some of the finer points of living in a magical house?"

"Oh, absolutely!" Ellen exclaimed. "For years we've pretty much had to take Hermione at her word when it came to the magical world. Outside of when that Professor…what was her name again?"

"McGonagall," Hermione supplied helpfully.

"McGonagall. That's right. Outside of when she came to visit, and when we go to Diagon Alley, we don't really get to see anything magical. Of course we had to accept your invitation to stay here!"

Sirius chuckled. "Well, don't get too excited. I've stayed in the muggle world before, and we aren't too different in the way we live." He led the way out of the sitting room and into the foyer, where the portrait of his mother hung. "Now," he continued very quietly, "the first rule of staying in this house is to be very quiet in the foyer. See this?" he asked, gesturing toward the thick curtain. "This is the portrait of my thankfully deceased mother. The old bat was crazy, and that followed her into death. The portrait's crazy too, and if you wake it up, you will be regretting it for the rest of the day."

"Good to know," Richard replied skeptically as the group moved into the kitchen. "So that's one of those moving pictures Hermione's told us about?"

"Actually," Hermione began, launching into full lecture mode, "it's a portrait. See, wealthy witches and wizards can hire painters to paint portraits of them, and infuse those portraits with their personality and memories. That way, the family can literally still have a piece of the person after they've died. All of the Hogwarts Headmasters have portraits, which is quite useful, especially if the current Headmaster needs advice. However, in some cases, it is not always the best idea to immortalize a person in a portrait, such as with Sirius's mother. No offense, Sirius."

"None taken," he replied, shaking his head. "Remember, I was the one who called her an old bat and said it was a good thing she was dead."

"If you're unlucky enough to wake her up, she will scream at you," Hermione continued, "tossing all sorts of foul profanities at you, calling you unworthy-"

"Unworthy mudblood dares defile mistress's home?" a small, nasally voice interrupted her. The group turned around to see Kreacher enter the kitchen. "And she brought her pet muggles with her. Oh, mistress would be so displeased with Kreacher for allowing-"

"Kreacher!" Sirius bellowed. "Enough! These are guests in our house, and I will not have you speaking to them like that! Is that understood?"

"Yes, Master Sirius-Brat," Kreacher snarled. "Kreacher will not tell the muggle trash how unworthy they are to be in mistress's house. Kreacher will not tell the filthy mudblood and nasty half-blood that they belong in the gutters with yesterday's garbage. Kreacher will not tell-"

"Kreacher! You will not speak to anyone in this house except for me, understood?" The house-elf nodded. "Now, go back to your room until you are summoned." Kreacher scowled and disappeared with a pop, leaving the five humans alone in the kitchen once more.

"Sorry about that," Sirius apologized.

"What was that thing?" Richard asked, taken aback.

"That was Kreacher," Sirius responded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "He's my house-elf. An unfortunate leftover of the black days of the Black family. I should tell you this right now: my family doesn't have the best history. In this house, there are remnants and reminders of their history supporting dark causes, so I will ask you to be careful. I've gotten rid of most of the dangerous stuff, but I might have missed something. So, when in doubt, ask. Now, I am sorry for Kreacher. He doesn't have the best social skills, especially towards non-purebloods."

"You can say that again," Harry muttered.

"Oh, before I forget, I also need to mention something," Sirius began. "There's going to be a meeting of the Order tonight, so we'll be having a bunch of extra people over. Sorry about that, but it was only something I just found out about earlier this morning."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Harry asked.

"It just slipped my mind. Anyway, knowing Molly, she'll drag the entire brood over here for it, and won't leave for a week. I've never understood that woman. She comes in here, criticizing my parenting skills, then takes over my house. I mean, I love her to death, but she _will_ be the death of me."

"So much for a nice quiet week then, eh?" Harry asked as he cast an unsure glance at the Grangers. "Once the Weasleys get here, you won't be able to hear yourself think, let alone hear anything six inches away. It's like a sodding zoo. Not that it's not fun when they're around, it's just…different."

Despite Harry's and Sirius's downplaying of the situation, Ellen looked on the bright side. "At least we'll be able to get to know more of Hermione's friends," she offered. "I mean, we've already met the Weasleys, but it'll still be nice to get to know them a bit better."

Hermione, though, wasn't so excited. However, she didn't show it, and instead decided to pump Sirius for more information. "So what's the meeting going to be about, then? If it was called so quickly, it must be important."

Sirius shrugged one shoulder. "I don't know. Minerva called it this morning, that's all I know. Maybe it's her way of getting up to speed after she got out of St. Mungos, I don't know. All I know is that it's her call, since Albus doesn't seem to care to be around. Anyway, enough business. Let's show you your rooms."

* * *

><p><em>July 17, 2011<em>

_2:27 PM_

Richard and Ellen Granger found themselves in a spacious, yet sparsely decorated bedroom on the third floor of Grimmauld Place, unpacking their belongings for their week-long stay. Richard, for his part, was resting on the large bed, sitting up against the headboard as he watched Ellen unpack their clothes into the low, antique dresser on the wall directly across from the bed.

"Well, this certainly isn't the 'Gritz' Carlton to say the least," Richard commented, earning a groan from his wife.

"That was terrible Richard," she complained, referring to his pun. "Besides we're looking at a bachelor that has been cooped up in his family's ancient mansion, probably cleaning it out on his own. I hardly think that house-elf thing has been much help. At least it's livable, so I wouldn't complain too much."

"But did you see those heads on the wall? That's downright barmy I tell you!"

"I'll grant you that," Ellen replied. "But you know what? It's livable. We're only here for a week, so it's not like we have to live here for the rest of our lives. We wanted to know what it would be like to live in a magical home, so here's our chance. It's just not quite what I expected is all."

"You can say that again," Richard grumbled as he looked around the room again. In addition to the bed and dresser, there was a small table next to the bed with an old wind-up clock resting up on it. The only other feature of the room was the single window on the wall opposite the door, but it was blocked by heavy black curtains. The walls themselves were adorned with waist-high black wood paneling, and finished with gray and white wallpaper that seemed to be yellowing slightly. It was obvious that the house had fallen into disrepair at some point, and that Kreacher had not been much help is maintaining it. Despite this, it was evident that Sirius had attempted to make the house somewhat inhabitable during his house arrest, with the end result of most of the rooms being generally clean, if a bit aged and decrepit.

"It does remind me a bit of that hostel we stayed at that one time," Ellen said. "You know, the one in Gent when we were backpacking across Belgium before Hermione was born? It had the same feel as this."

Richard snorted. "Don't let that Sirius bloke let you hear that. He's liable to take offense at his house being compared to a hostel."

"Not bloody likely," Sirius said from the open door, poking his head inside the room. "I know this house is a right mess. I personally hate it myself, but it is what it is."

"Oh! Sirius!" Ellen shrieked, jumping back slightly in surprise. "We didn't know you were there."

Sirius shrugged. "I wasn't. At least until a second ago. Don't worry, I wasn't crouched next to your door like some crazed stalker or anything, listening in on every word. I was just walking by when I heard you saying that I wouldn't like my house compared to a hostel. Well, to be perfectly honest, a hostel would be a glitzy resort compared to this place."

"That's not true," Ellen responded in an unconvincing tone as she shifted her eyes to Richard for support.

"Erm, yeah," he agreed half-heartedly.

"You two would make terrible actors," Sirius informed them jovially. "I know the place isn't in the best shape, but for right now, I'm forced to stay here. So I'd better make of it what I can."

Richard and Ellen nodded noncommittally, causing Sirius to chuckle once more.

"Anyway, that's not why I came up here," he said. "I was actually wondering if you two wanted to sit in on the Order meeting tonight. Get a little perspective on what goes on behind the scenes in the wizarding world, if you will."

"Is that really our place?" Ellen asked tentatively.

"It is if I say it is," Sirius replied. "This is my house, after all, and you are my guests. And since this meeting is being held in my house, I get a say on who gets to sit in. I learned that lesson last year after Harry was left out of a meeting."

"We don't want to be an imposition," Richard interjected, seeing the insistent look his wife was giving him.

"And you wouldn't be," Sirius responded. "I just figured I'd invite you so you could have an idea of what's really going on out there."

Ellen glanced at Richard, who shrugged unhelpfully. She rolled her eyes at him before turning back to Sirius to respond. "We'll think about it," she said diplomatically. "That's not to say we're saying no, but that we just want to talk about it. I mean, I know that it's not really a big deal to sit in on a meeting, but let's just say that we don't want to feel out of place."

"I can understand that," Sirius empathized. "But the offer still stands. Let me know what you decide, since it's in only a few hours."

"We will," Ellen told him as he turned and left the room, leaving the adult Grangers alone once more.

When they were alone again, Richard spoke. "So," he began, "what do you think?"

"I told _him_ what I thought," Ellen retorted, "so I would have thought you'd pick up on it too."

"Well, I kinda got what you were saying, but I wasn't sure if you were telling him the whole truth or whether it was just another situation like when you used the money excuse with Hermione."

"Whatever. Now, I personally think it might be interesting to go, but that's just me. I mean, we would be able to find out more about this world, which might let us relate to Hermione better."

"And I happen to agree with you," Richard replied. "I don't know why you didn't just tell him that when he was here."

"Because I wanted to discuss it first," Ellen answered. "But since we're in agreement on it, it was kinda pointless, wasn't it?"

Richard shrugged. "Ya'know, it can be kinda uncanny how well we tend to agree, even without speaking."

"That is true," she agreed. "We wouldn't have survived seventeen years of marriage if we didn't agree."

"So you're giving me full lease to make decisions without consulting you, so long as I think you agree?" Richard joked.

"Absolutely not! I don't know where you got that notion, but that's the last thing I wanted to make you think!" she huffed jokingly.

Richard snapped his fingers in mock disappointment. "Well, there goes my thought of quitting the practice and taking up the hobby of fixing up old lorries full-time," he added tentatively.

Ellen snorted. "Please tell me you weren't trying to test the waters there."

"Eh, it's not really worth talking about now," he replied, his tone of voice vaguely hinting at his sarcasm.

"You're not making me feel any better," Ellen said sarcastically. Richard laughed as she finished unpacking and slid their luggage under the bed. "But that aside, any bets on how Hermione'll spend the meeting? She wrote last year telling us that she wasn't allowed in, but that didn't stop her from listening in with the others. I don't know if she'll do that this time, but I'm willing to wager on where she'll spend the time."

"Don't you mean with 'who?'" Richard grumbled.

"Richard, I've already told you once, the overprotective father routine is outdated and doesn't become you. Give the boy a chance; he's a human being for Pete's sake. He deserves to be treated like one. And that little stunt you pulled downstairs, telling him he couldn't call you by your first name, didn't help matters any."

"I just thought it would be respectful for him to-"

"It wasn't respectful of _you_ to say that. Now, it's very possible that Hermione will realize that she fancies the boy, and if she does, it's likely that he'll be in our lives for a long time to come. Is that really the way you want him to think of you? As some domineering, overbearing bully?"

"I think that's a bit harsh…"

"No it isn't. While you may not have been a bully downstairs, I could easily see it turning into that if you keep it up. While it might have been a bit hasty of us to invite him on holiday with us without getting to know him, we now have the perfect opportunity to do so. Don't waste it."

"Yes dear," Richard replied mockingly, causing Ellen to roll her eyes.

* * *

><p><em>July 17, 2011<em>

_7:29 PM_

Despite the fact that the Order meeting that evening was only supposed to last a short while, Molly Weasley had brought two of her children with her: Ron and Ginny. Just as Sirius had predicted, they had come with the intention of staying for several days, and as a result, were upstairs unpacking in their own rooms. Like with Harry and Hermione, Sirius had provided them with their own rooms this year.

In the meantime, as the appointed time of the Order meeting approached, Harry and Hermione had excused themselves to the sitting room to await word on the outcome of the meeting. They had both assumed that Sirius would inform them as to the contents of the meeting, based simply on his personality and past willingness to divulge sensitive information to the pair, as well as Ron.

"So did you manage to get your summer homework done, Harry?" Hermione asked seriously.

"Hey! You told me that you wouldn't pester me about that this summer, remember?" he argued, reminding her of her promise in his dormitory before the term had ended.

"I know, I know. But you haven't really said much since we got here, so I had to start a conversation somehow. Seemed like a good place to start."

"Of course, homework's always a good place to start with you, isn't it?" Harry joked tentatively, not wanting to seem like he was ridiculing Hermione too much. The last thing he wanted was to sound like Ron and only associate Hermione with homework.

"Don't even start, Harry," she warned. "I don't want my parents getting that idea about me."

"Huh?" he asked, confused. "You're telling me that your parents don't think school is important to you?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, they know school's important to me, and always has. But that's not all I obsess about at home. Granted, I've always been a bookworm, even before Hogwarts-"

"You're not a 'bookworm,' Harry corrected. "You just really…enjoy books," he finished lamely.

Hermione chuckled at his poor attempt at relabeling her. "Nice try, Harry. But really, I am a bookworm. I know it, and my parents know it. I'm not saying that like it's a bad thing. But when I'm at home, school and homework aren't the only things I talk about or do. I don't want my parents to think that I obsess about it so much that I'm pestering you about it is all."

"Sounds like your relationship with your parents isn't so cut and dry," Harry observed. "You never really talked about them, so I just assumed that your relationship with them was something like you, me, and Ron."

"You, Ron, and me," she corrected quietly, causing Harry to chuckle. "But no, it's nothing like that. It's just that…our relationship is complicated, to say the least. I don't usually talk about it though."

Harry looked at her curiously. "Why not?"

Hermione took a deep breath before speaking. "It's complicated," she repeated. She seemed to debate with herself for a moment about whether to continue. Finally, after a brief moment, she seemed to decide in favor of doing so. "You know my dad and mum are both dentists, right?" Harry nodded. "They own their own practice in Swindon and everything. In order to really understand, I'll have to start at the beginning."

Harry settled into the sofa and waited for her to continue.

"They met in school when they were about our age, and became friends soon thereafter, both of them belonging to the same group of friends. They remained good friends until they both went to university. Because they lived in a pretty small town, they, along with several of their friends, went to the same university. Now, depending on whether you talk to my mum or my dad, you will get a different answer as to who influenced who into getting a degree in dentistry."

"Who was it?" Harry asked.

Hermione shrugged. "I still haven't been able to get a straight answer out of either of them. Each one keeps telling me that they were the one to influence the other. I don't know the real answer. Anyway, because they were now in the medical program at the university, they seemed to split off from their other friends. As a result, the two grew closer. The rest is kinda self-explanatory. They were married two years later, when my dad was twenty-one and my mum twenty. At this point, my dad had gotten on as a dental assistant to earn some money to get through school, and my mum served as a secretary in the same office that he worked in. However, about a year after getting married, my mum got pregnant and eventually quit her job and school, leaving them with only a single income. My dad continued to work through university, even after I was born. When I was four years old, he finally got his degree and found a full-time position that allowed for much better pay. During this whole time, my mum stayed at home with me, completing the occasional correspondence course to keep working on her degree. But because money was so tight while my dad was in school, she couldn't do too much at one time. Finally, after my dad finished his degree, they had enough money to hire someone to take care of me while my mum went back to school full time. She finished her degree a few years later, and she and my dad opened their own practice together."

"Not to sound like I'm not interested or anything," Harry began, "but what does that have to do with you?"

Hermione stared off into space, as though contemplating her next move. "Well, you can pretty much see that life for my parents, at least early on, was no bed of roses. They worked all through uni, getting by and living paycheck to paycheck. Now they're successful and well-off, mainly due to their hard work early on. I guess I've always wanted to follow in their footsteps."

"And what's so wrong with that? Hard work and striving to make something of yourself isn't something to be ashamed of, Hermione. It's really just that: something to shoot for."

"Not at the expense of everything else. Contrary to popular belief, being a bookworm and wanting to do well in school are two very different things. When I was younger, my parents always pushed me to do well in school. What parents wouldn't though, really? When they told me their story, I guess it just reinforced to me how hard I should work. But at the same time, I've always got the message from them that school isn't everything. I think daddy asked me once, what good is success if I don't have anyone to share it with? But really, I wanted to please them so much, I guess, that I kinda ignored that. And you can see the end result."

Harry looked at her, perplexed, wondering what was so bad about the end result. From what he could gather, her hard work and bookishness had only been beneficial, serving to save both of their lives on several occasions. He had to tell her that, but before he could, he was interrupted.

"Harry? Hermione?" Sirius poked his head into the sitting room, only to find Harry and Hermione alone. He glanced at Harry knowingly, whose face slowly seemed to be growing red with embarrassment. "I think you're old enough to sit in on the meeting, don't you?" he suggested with a wink. They had not really discussed it, since Harry and Hermione had assumed that they would not be allowed into the meetings again this year.

"Are you sure?" Harry asked tentatively, disappointed at Sirius's entrance, but somewhat excited at his proposal. "I mean, Molly's gonna be there, right? So what'll she say about it?"

"I couldn't care less what she has to say about it. She's not your mother, and since I'm your godfather, I have the final say. As for Hermione, Ellen and Robert have given their permission for her to go too. After all, they're sitting in on the meeting as well."

"Huh?" Hermione asked, dumbfounded. "Why are they there?"

"I just thought it would be right to invite them," Sirius explained with a shrug. "After all, they're guests in my house, as well as adults. And whether they like it or not, their daughter is a part of the magical world, so I thought that they deserved to sit in on the meeting. And after a little while of thinking about it, they agreed."

"Fine," Harry decided, standing up and moving toward the door. "I've always wondered what you guys do in those meetings anyway. From the sounds of it, it sounds like a lot of strategizing, and not much else. I'm curious if there's a big chess board or map sitting on the table with little plastic men who you push around with sticks."

"Only in your perverse fantasies, Harry," Sirius retorted as Hermione stood and joined them as they walked toward the dining room, where the meeting was to be held.

As they entered the room, they saw that Ellen and Robert Granger, Minerva McGonagall and Molly Weasley were already seated. As soon as they entered, Molly's head quickly swiveled and caught sight of them.

"No! They are too young to be here!" she exclaimed, rising from her seat in a huff. She then regained her temper slightly as she addressed Harry and Hermione sweetly. "Now, this is nothing that you two need to concern yourselves with. Let the adults take care of whatever is going on. Go on, go enjoy yourselves. Don't let yourselves get bogged down in this mess."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Molly, they're here because I invited them, and they wanted to come. Surely you don't believe that something involving Voldemort doesn't involve Harry, do you? And anything that involves Harry involves Hermione by default, so there we go."

"They are just children!" she shrieked, losing her temper once more. "Where do you get off thinking that you know what's best for them, Sirius Black? I'm of half a mind to-"

"Molly Weasley, sit down, and shut up!" Sirius roared. "This is my house, and Harry is my godson. His care is my concern, not yours, and I would thank you to kindly stick your nose elsewhere, because it does not belong in my business. Understood?" He paused for a moment to collect his wits. "Now, you two," he said to Harry and Hermione, "I think we should sit down. The meeting should be starting any moment."

Harry and Hermione sat tentatively, with Hermione to Harry's right and Sirius to his left. Ellen and Robert sat next to Hermione, in an unspoken attempt to shield her from Molly's wrath. For her part, the Weasley matron was still seething with rage, but wisely kept it to herself, instead deciding to use her face to display various unhealthy shades of red.

As they sat, a few more members of the Order drifted into the room, taking seats at various points around the table. It seemed, however, that not many members were present, possibly due to the short notice of the meeting. For now, Harry could recognize McGonagall, Snape, Kingsley Shaklebolt, Nymphadora Tonks, Remus, and Alastor Moody.

"I think that's everyone who told me they would be here," McGonagall announced finally, getting everyone's attention, "so let's get started. I'm sure you're all wondering what the reason behind this meeting is. Well, I can tell you that Severus was summoned by You-Know-Who several weeks ago, for some emergency meeting, however little came from that meeting. Now, late last night, Severus was summoned once more. This time, however, he tells me that there is something substantive to report. So, I will turn it over to Severus, to discuss what happened. Severus." She turned the floor over to the Hogwarts potions master, sitting down as she did so.

Snape stood, his black robes swirling around him as he did so. "I will endeavor to keep this simple and entertaining, since Potter has decided to grace us with his presence," he sneered, glaring at Harry. "Loathe as I am to admit it, Potter actually does have a role here tonight, despite the legitimate objections of some," he added, looking at Molly pointedly. "Just as the last term ended, I was summoned by the Dark Lord, along with a handful of his most loyal followers, to a special gathering. The Dark Lord had previously attempted to draw Potter to the Ministry, in an attempt to retrieve a specific, object of which we are all aware." Harry looked confused by this and opened his mouth to say so. "Potter, you will have to discuss that with the Headmaster," he added, anticipating Harry's question. "But, showing a rare modicum of common sense, Potter did not fall for the ruse, and saved himself, and anyone foolish enough to follow him, a great deal of trouble. He then brought the incident to my attention."

"We know this," Harry growled. "Get to the point."

"As always, Potter, you have no patience. I was simply giving the necessary background for those who are not fully aware of the situation. The Dark Lord was…most displeased by the fact that Potter did not fall for his trap. Now, as most of you are aware from my previous reports, the Dark Lord is neither patient nor is he even-tempered. He also suffers from extreme paranoia. As a result, he tends to overreact and assume the worst possible outcome to a situation. As a result, he read more into the failure of his rouse than he should have."

"What do you mean?" Sirius asked. "Does he think that Harry already knows about the pro-"

"Ahem!" Molly interrupted, clearing her throat loudly.

Snape glared at Sirius before continuing. "No, I am not insinuating that is the case at all. The Dark Lord is of the impression that Potter has developed strong occlumency skills, and is able of withstanding any of his mental attacks. However, having personally attempted to train Potter in the art of occlumency, I can assure you that this is not the case. The Dark Lord now believes that Potter was able to, in some fashion, reverse the attack and probe his mind, thereby learning of the trap."

"That's ridiculous," Harry replied. "I couldn't do that if I tried. I mean, I did see the vision of Mr. Weasley, but I wouldn't even begin to know where to start when it came to doing that again."

"Trust me Potter, I know this very well. Your lack of skill in occlumency was most entertaining, despite the fact that it wasted some of my valuable time. That aside, I will once again reiterate the fact that the Dark Lord is extremely paranoid. He plots, plans, and schemes for every eventuality, and analyzes every outcome. If he even catches a hint that his power may be in danger, he will take action. And that is what he has done."

"So what does this have to do with us then?" Harry asked, irritated at the small jabs that Snape had been taking at him.

"Fearing that the connection between himself and Potter is a potential liability, the Dark Lord has taken steps to protect his assets. While normally this would be standard behavior for the Dark Lord, I have found one action in particular quite intriguing. The Dark Lord has directed Lucius Malfoy to protect what he refers to as his most treasured possession. While I am not aware of what this object is, I am aware that it was previously under the protection of Bellatrix Lestrange. However, the Dark Lord felt that the protections on it were not sufficient enough to protect the object from Potter's roving mind, and has given it to Malfoy to protect."

"So what?" Harry challenged. "So Voldemort," he paused for the inevitable gasp from Molly and glare from Snape, "chose to protect his favorite toy. So what? Why's that so important?"

Snape leaned over the table, spreading his arms wide to support himself as he made eye contact with Harry. "Potter, your shortsightedness never ceases to astound me. Any object that is highly favored by the Dark Lord must have dire implications for the rest of the wizarding world. Undoubtedly, this is some kind of dark object that we know nothing about. But if the Dark Lord is willing to take such extreme steps to protect it, it is likely that it is key to his power or plans in some way."

"What do you mean, 'extreme steps?'" Hermione asked. "All you said was that he had taken it away from Bellatrix and given it to Malfoy. That doesn't sound too extreme to me."

Snape eyed Hermione's parents carefully before responding. "It is extreme, Miss Granger," he began with forced patience, "because of the circumstances. Lestrange has long been tasked with protecting the most treasured belongings of the Dark Lord, and she has chosen to do so by utilizing her Gringotts vault. The fact that the Dark Lord no longer views Gringotts as secure is troubling. However, that is not the most interesting aspect of this situation. As you are no doubt aware, Mr. Malfoy is extremely wealthy, and his wealth comes from several sources. However, the primary source of his wealth is the muggle gaming industry. Specifically, the casino industry."

"That makes no sense, though," Hermione objected. "Why would a devoted follower of Voldemort get involved in the muggle gaming industry? That seems to go against everything the Death Eaters believe in!"

Snape nodded thoughtfully, honestly appreciating Hermione's statement. "While normally I would agree with you, Miss Granger, the situation is not that simple. You are correct in your assumption that most Death Eaters would normally not get involved in the muggle world, Mr. Malfoy is not one of them. True, he despises muggles, and actively works toward their demise, but at the same time, he also a very intelligent man. He understands that the muggle economy is vast and waiting to be tapped, and he also believes that he can take advantage of weak-minded muggles by tempting them with games of chance. In this way, he is able to profit from the muggle world, while at the same time working to undermine it by sowing the seeds of addiction. He is then able to utilize these profits to fund the activities of the Dark Lord."

Hermione had to admit that he had a point. While it seemed to go against everything the Death Eaters stood for, once she thought about it, owning a muggle casino was actually just an extension of Death Eater ideals.

"So Voldemort gave this…item to Malfoy to put in his casino?" Remus asked for clarification.

Snape nodded curtly. "Indeed. At least, that is the insinuation that Mr. Malfoy made. However, that also puts us at a distinct disadvantage if we are intending to learn what the object is."

"And why's that?" Sirius asked.

"Because the property that Mr. Malfoy owns is in the United States. More specifically, in the muggle gaming destination of Las Vegas."

Sirius snorted. "What a perfect place for Malfoy to go. He's the scum of the Earth, so of course he'd choose Sin City."

"Choose your next witticism more carefully next time, mutt," Snape growled. "This is a serious situation."

"Is there any way you can find out what the object is?" McGonagall asked, speaking for the first time.

Snape shook his head. "As far as the Dark Lord seems to be concerned, the matter is closed. After the meeting last night, when Mr. Malfoy reported that the object is now in place in Las Vegas and that he would be traveling there to oversee the security measures, I doubt very much that the Dark Lord will discuss the matter further."

"Oh, I wish Albus was here," Molly moaned. "Then we could ask him what he thinks we should do. I mean, it would be easy enough to just forget about the whole matter and be done with it. But the Order exists to deal with situations just like this. We can't survive in a head-on battle against You-Know-Who and his followers, but we can work behind the scenes to stop him. That's what we're here for."

"Is there any way anybody can contact him?" Hermione asked.

McGonagall shook her head. "Unfortunately, every owl I try to send to him comes back undelivered. Every way I can think of to contact him has failed so far."

"Then how did you get the secret to the Grangers about Headquarters?" Harry asked.

"I didn't," McGonagall admitted. "I tried to send Albus a letter, asking him to write down the address for them, but it, like all of the others, came back undelivered. That usually means that either the person does not want to receive any post, or they are too far away for the owl to reach."

"Then how did you get the secret?" Harry asked the Grangers.

"Some large bird appeared in a flame in our kitchen this morning just before we were supposed to leave," Ellen answered. "It gave us a piece of paper-"

"Parchment," Hermione corrected.

"Parchment, and disappeared in a flame."

"That would be Fawkes," Harry explained. "So we know that the Headmaster was behind that, but it doesn't explain how he knew to send the address in the first place."

"Is anything Albus does explainable?" Sirius asked sarcastically. "I'm sure he knows what's going on, and has just chosen to stay out of communication on purpose. The only question is, why?"

"Unfortunately, that is not the issue right now," McGonagall commented. "With Albus unreachable, we must choose whether we will act, and how we will do so. So, I'm open to suggestions from everybody."

"If You-Know-Who thinks this object is important, then it obviously is," Moody commented from his vantage point leaning against the wall across from Harry. "We can't afford to let him keep control over it."

"Hold on," Shaklebolt argued. "We don't even know what this thing is. For all we know it could be his prized stuffed hippogriff from when he was a kid. I don't think we can assume that we have to steal something without knowing what it is."

Murmurs erupted from around the room as various suggestions were bandied about. Ellen, for her part, appeared contemplative as the others discussed the predicament.

"Whatcha thinking about?" Richard whispered in her ear, leaning over subtly.

"Just thinking," she replied cryptically. "About a way we could help."

Richard quirked a single eyebrow in curiosity at her statement. "What do you mean, help?" he asked. "Why is that our responsibility?"

"Like it or not, we're involved in this to some degree," she argued. "I mean, we aren't part of the magical world, but our daughter is. So to some degree, this does affect us. Besides, we could learn more about this world that's claimed Hermione." Richard appeared pensive. "Do you trust me?" Ellen asked.

"Well, yeah," he responded, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "But-"

"How do you like the sound of a trip to Vegas?" Ellen whispered, shutting him up. He didn't have time to respond before she raised her voice to address the rest of the group. "Then why don't we find out what it is?" she suggested, speaking before the entire congregation for the first time. All eyes in the room turned to her and her idea. "I mean, I don't know about you, but the sound of a trip to Las Vegas doesn't sound too bad to me."

Richard looked around the table frantically before leaning over to his wife and whispering in her ear. "What do you think you're doing?" he whispered angrily through clenched teeth.

"I just had an idea," she whispered back, before leaning away from him and raising her voice once more. "See, Harry, Hermione, Richard, and I were planning on taking a trip to the States in a week anyway. It wouldn't be that hard to change our plane tickets to go to Las Vegas instead of Florida. Granted, it might be a bit more expensive, especially on such short notice, but it must be doable."

Snape took a deep breath before making eye contact with Ellen. "Mrs. Granger," he began slowly, "forgive me if this sounds offensive, but how exactly can you help us in this situation? You lack any magic and would not be able to contend with Mr. Malfoy directly due to that…handicap."

Richard gritted his teeth as Snape insulted his wife, understanding why Hermione complained about this professor. "Then that is exactly why we are the perfect choices for this," he argued, joining Ellen's side. "Forgive me if this sounds offensive," he said, repeating Snape's words for effect, "but any one of you here would stick out like a sore thumb in Las Vegas if you went on your own. You said it yourself that this is a muggle casino that Mr. Malfoy operates. And any good spy knows that the best reconnaissance is performed by somebody who blends in. Ergo, we're perfect." He swallowed quickly before continuing. "However," he added, "don't think I don't see the benefit of taking someone magical with us. But I'm not really comfortable going with just a teenage witch and wizard to fill that role. No offense, Harry, Hermione."

Harry nodded the comment off, wondering why Richard was doing this.

"Richard, Ellen," Sirius began, "you're really willing to sacrifice your own holiday in order to go on some little survey mission for us?"

"Well, we wouldn't be going alone," Richard retorted. "We'd have to take some of you with us. But it wouldn't really be much of a sacrifice for us. We'd still be able to go to a prime tourist location and get some sun." He added this last part in an attempt to further justify his decision to the others, in addition to his wife.

McGonagall eyed Richard carefully, before shifting her gaze to Ellen, in an attempt to read her opinion on the matter, who nodded in agreement. "Well then," she began, "if you see it as no trouble, and if you can work out the necessary arrangements, then I see no problem with this plan. However, I want to see a list of who is going and make sure that wise choices are made. Otherwise, this plan may be in serious jeopardy. For now though, unless a better idea is put forth, we go forward with Mr. and Mrs. Grangers' plan. Severus," she added, "did you have anything else you wanted to mention?"

"I do want to mention that, despite the fact that the Dark Lord fears Potter's occlumency skills, that does not preclude the possibility that he will attempt further incursions into the boy's mind. Sending him away on holiday would not make matters more secure. In fact, the various…frivolities in Las Vegas may lead to further mental weakness."

"Then what do you suggest, Severus?" Moody asked. "You training him in occlumency further?"

Snape sighed deeply. "If he promises to behave himself, I will allow Potter one last chance to learn occulmency from me, in order to honor the Headmaster's wishes. However, if he were to betray my trust again…" he trailed off as Hermione glanced at Harry for clarification. He provided none.

"I won't allow it," McGonagall replied forcefully. "From what I know of your previous lessons, they were far from helpful, to say the least. But to be more accurate, they were bordering on abusive. There is no way I would subject Mr. Potter to that again."

"But the Headmaster-"

"Is not here," McGonagall interrupted. "But I am, and I have decided that Mr. Potter will not be attending any further occlumency lessons with you."

Snape smirked in rueful satisfaction, but did not sit back down, nor did he attempt to even feign disappointment at McGonagall's decision.

"Then if you have nothing further to add Severus, I do believe that this meeting is adjourned," McGonagall announced, "as that was the only order of business for the night. Thank you for coming, everyone."

* * *

><p>As Harry and Hermione stepped out of the dining room at Grimmauld Place, they were immediately bombarded with questions from a pair of red-headed siblings.<p>

"So what did they talk about?" Ron asked earnestly. "The twins weren't here, and I didn't bring an Extendable Ear of my own, so we couldn't listen in. What did they talk about?"

"Ron," Hermione began, "I don't really think we need to talk about it right this second." She watched as her parents walked by, headed toward the sitting room on the other side of the first floor.

"Harry! You'll tell us, right?" Ginny pestered, trying to pump Harry for information.

But he shook his head in the negative. "Maybe in a little bit, guys. But right now, Hermione and I need to go and talk to her parents. We'll catch up with you in a bit, alright? You are staying here for a few days aren't you?"

Ron nodded glumly. "Yeah, mum always makes us stay here for a few days after each meeting. Says it lets us get out of the Burrow for a few days, lets us get a change of scenery. Personally, I don't like the scenery here myself. Not that I don't want to spend time with you mate. Or you, Hermione," he added hastily. "But this house just gives me the creeps."

"I know what you mean, mate," Harry agreed as he slapped Ron on the back. "Anyway, we need to go talk to Mr. and Mrs. Granger. See you around later, alright?"

Harry led Hermione away from the youngest Weasleys and across the first floor and into the sitting room. As they approached, they heard voices engaged in a lively discussion.

"Well that was certainly a big decision for you to make on your own," Richard said, his voice tinged with spite. "Especially after what you said about partnership and teamwork earlier."

"Well, I _thought_ that it was a good idea at the time. Yes I know it is a big decision, but I thought I was doing something important," Ellen argued. "Not to mention the fact that I let you know ahead of time. You didn't seem too opposed to the idea. I mean, I know we were planning on going to Florida, and I probably could have spent a bit more time thinking about it, but what's done is done. We can still back out, but then we'd have to explain that."

"Not that I want to do that, but don't you think that speaking up like that was kinda…hasty? We don't owe those people anything, yet we just volunteered to travel thousands of miles for them on some survey mission. Not to mention the fact that our holiday was supposed to be in only seven days."

"Alright, alright, I know you think I was irresponsible."

"That's not what I'm saying," he countered. "I'm not saying it was irresponsible. I'm saying it was unexpected. You know full well I've fancied at trip to Vegas for a while, so I'm not complaining about that. I just don't know why we're going for _them_. Really, it all comes back to that Harry fellow, since he is at the source of it all. It may not be his fault, and Lord knows I don't want to blame him for anything, but he is involved. It just seems like a lot to do for someone we hardly even know."

Harry and Hermione poked their head around the corner to get a better view, just in time to see Ellen nodding her head in agreement.

"All the more reason to do this," she argued. "What better way to get to know someone than in their own element."

"Vegas is his element?" Richard balked.

"I meant the magical world. Granted, we'll all be out of our comfort zone a bit, but there will be magic involved to some degree. Maybe then we'll be able to see him the way Hermione sees him."

"I'll admit that your idea has some credibility," Richard conceded. "But it does seem awfully thin. And I can't get over the fact that we walked out of that meeting having tried to solve all of their problems. We were supposed to be at that meeting just as observers more than anything else."

"Right, but I guess we're a bit more than observers now, aren't we?" she joked. "That aside, we can finally get involved in Hermione's life with this. We both know how disconnected we've been from her the past few years. Maybe this is what we need to finally get to really know her again."

"Another good point," Richard replied. "I guess I can see the logic behind it all. Not that I'm disagreeing, remember. It was just a bit of a rash decision, that's all."

"Time isn't on our side, remember? We only have a week before we're supposed to leave. But if we're gonna do this, _you_ better make the most of it. This trip gives you the chance to make a good impression on Harry, not to mention get to know him better. Hermione could have just as easily invited him to spend some time with us at home, but the fact that she wanted him to come on holiday with us shows how much she really cares for him."

But before Richard could respond, Sirius entered from the other entrance into the sitting room. Harry and Hermione took this opportunity to enter as well, hoping to remain nonchalant and act as though they had not been eavesdropping.

"Are you really sure about this, Mr. Granger?" Harry asked tentatively as he sat down on one of the two sofas.

"Harry, call him Richard," Ellen suggested.

"Sorry…Richard," Harry amended.

"It's alright, Harry," Richard said confidently, his mood improved from a moment earlier. "And yes, I am sure about this. To be perfectly honest, I've been wanting to go to Las Vegas for years now, since I do like my share of gaming. This is just the perfect opportunity to finally do it."

"Daddy does like his card games," Hermione admitted. "He's played bridge for years."

Richard snorted. "Bridge," he repeated derisively. "I don't have anything against it. In fact, I really do enjoy playing it. But sometimes I almost wish it would stick its hand down the front of my trousers and have a little rummage."

"Daddy!" Hermione exclaimed, horrified at her father's comment.

"What?" he replied innocently. "It's true! Bridge can get boring. I've always wanted to play some other card games at a major casino, that's why I've always wanted to go to Vegas. This is the perfect chance, and I had to jump at it."

"So then how are we going to do this?" Harry asked.

"Well," Sirius began, "since you are doing this for the Order, I want to help. I'll be honest, my family is quite well off, and has historically used that money for some less savory purposes. I'd like to help out there."

"Well then, Sirius, since you're going to be funding part of the trip, you might as well come along then, right?" Richard suggested.

"If you insist," Sirius replied with a grin.

"What about the fact that you're still wanted?" Harry objected. "If the Ministry catches you, they'll have you kissed for sure!"

"Eh, I'm only wanted in Europe," Sirius replied nonchalantly. "Moony took the liberty of researching it for me, in the event that I wanted to run off to some tropical paradise and surround myself with scantily-clad women. So long as I get out of Britain, I'll be fine. And even that shouldn't be too difficult. The Ministry is full of quacks these days, and they're all completely useless. It should be a cakewalk to slip through their net. Besides, I've always wanted to give ol' Lucius a good stomping."

"While that is a pleasant thought to have, here's what I'm thinking," Harry interjected. "At the very least, I expect Malfoy to be well connected, even in America. So I have no doubt he'll have any form of magical transportation monitored. That rules out international portkeys and the international floo system."

"I thought we were just going to fly there like before," Ellen said.

"We can…and now that I think about it, we probably should," Harry concluded. "The only question is how many people to take."

"Well, I don't think we should take too many," Ellen opined. "The whole point of this entire thing is to stay under the radar. Bringing a small army with us kind of defeats the entire purpose."

"True," Sirius commented. "But I'm not gonna decide on numbers, since money isn't an issue. We just need to decide who's going and go with that. We can't go into this with a predetermined number already in our heads."

"Sure," Harry agreed as he shrugged. The others nodded slightly in agreement as well. "But the question is, who do we take?"

"Well, since it was the Grangers trip to begin with," Sirius began, "I think that they should be the ones to decide. After all, they'll be the ones who have to live with the decision."

"Oh, such a positive outlook you have on everything, Sirius," Richard responded dryly.

"I think that Harry and Hermione should decide, personally," Ellen suggested. "After all, they were the ones who were going to go on holiday with us to begin with, and they know all of these people anyway. I think they'd be the best people to decide on who to take and who to leave behind."

Harry and Hermione glanced at each other and nodded.

"Sure," Hermione agreed for the both of them. "I'll draw up some lists and charts and we'll go over them in the morning."

"Leave it to Hermione to draw up lists and charts," Harry muttered.

"She gets that from her father," Ellen explained. "Her good looks she gets from me, but the brains came from the other side. Although you might not always be able to tell…"

"Anyway…" Harry began loudly, interrupting Ellen's commentary. "I think Hermione's right, and we'll take a look in the morning, since it's too late now."

With that, the group disbanded and retreated to their respective rooms upstairs, eager to see what decisions the next day would bring.

End of Chapter 4

Author's Note: Well, because I am now putting these notes at the end of the chapter, I am able to write more and talk about more. You are not, however, required to read them. I hope that at least a few of you find these interesting or informative in some way, but if not, please let me know. Now, there are a few things I want to talk about in this note, so let's get started.

The first is that I want to congratulate the following reviewers for correctly guessing the name of this chapter in advance: acam, mckisab, and anonymous reviewer GodricG89. They all correctly guessed that the name of this chapter would be "In Only Seven Days," written by John Deacon and released on the Jazz album in 1978. Now, to give you a hint for the next chapter, you must bear in mind the fact that the next chapter will be mainly dedicated to Harry and Hermione sifting through their friends to find the people who would be best to join them. That's as much of a hint as I can give you, with the exception of the fact that I do not repeat chapter names.

I also want to take a few minutes to talk about the character of Dumbledore. I have read all of the reviews for this story, and I thank you all for each one. A few of them mention the fact that Dumbledore seems to be somewhat hands-off and invisible in this story. Trust me, that is completely purposeful. I do believe that the character of Dumbledore is a manipulative one, but that we do not always see his manipulations immediately. I also must stress that there will be, for lack of a better term, plot holes in this story, which are purposeful. Some minor aspects of this story are meant to set up plot threads in future stories I have planned. Do note that all of the major story threads will be tied up in this story, so do not worry about that. I am simply trying to sow the seeds for the other parts of this intended story. The Dumbledore story plays into that somewhat. When I sat down to write this story, one of the questions that popped into my mind was what he was doing during his entire exile from Hogwarts. That is a question I intend to answer, partly with this story, and partly with some others. In addition, some reviews have pointed out that Dumbledore would never allow Harry to live in an unsupervised environment or go somewhere unsafe without being constantly monitored. This begs the question, however, of whether Dumbledore would allow Harry to gallivant around the globe if he was being supervised. So, to sum up this section, I want to pose one question to all of you, one that relates to the character of Dumbledore: what if he decided to train Harry or give him some unique experiences while, at the same time, being monitored and watched over by Dumbledore personally? Now, I'm not saying that this is necessarily completely the case, but it is just something to consider.

Also, to answer a few other reviews, I do want to reiterate the fact that yes, Harry is socially awkward. That is why he is so confused about everything Hermione does, including signing her letter "love." Another point to discuss is the concept of the Grangers taking Harry on holiday with them somewhat…hastily. I completely respect this point of view, and I would normally agree with it if it were my own daughter and her friend we were talking about. However, in the case of this story, it just didn't seem to fit for them to visit at Hermione's house for a week. That is partially due to the fact that the Grangers had already scheduled this trip, during the time when Harry's birthday would normally be. The fact that his birthday falls during the trip played a part in the decision to allow him to come, and will play a part at the end of the story. In addition, the main reason why Harry is going on holiday with the Grangers is because that is central to the entire story. I _had_ to send him out of the country in order for the story to even take place. So there is that to consider. Regarding the change in destination that occurred in this chapter, that is central to the entire story, since the story takes place in Las Vegas. I'm sure a good number of you can guess the general premise of the story by now, but that's alright. It's also alright that most of you may be able to guess what the "object" is, especially if you have knowledge of canon. But the fun in a story isn't in the destination, it's in the journey from point A to point B, and I am trying my best to make that as fun as possible.

I also want to ask about author's notes. I've noticed through reviews that many of you are actually reading these, which is great. But I want to know what is too much and where to stop. Are you actually finding these interesting? Or are you reading them out of pity? Let me know if they should be shortened, eliminated, or changed at all.

Anyway, I've rambled on long enough. I truly hope you enjoyed chapter 4 of this story, and I ask you to leave me a review telling me how much you liked it. I also hope you stick around to follow the rest of this story, since we're just about to start getting into the meat of it all.


	5. Friends Will Be Friends

Author's Note: Kudos to the following reviewers who correctly guessed the title of this chapter: GodricG89 and Imagine-Unique-Name-Here. Here is your congratulatory smiley:

:)

Other than that, keep up the guesses for the chapter names! I'll see you at the end of the chapter!

Chapter 5

**Friends Will Be Friends**

_July 18, 2011_

_10:21 AM_

The next morning found Harry and Hermione in his room on the third floor, with the door open, poring over the list Hermione had compiled for their trip. This year, as opposed to the summer before, Sirius had allowed Harry and Hermione to have their own rooms, instead of sharing with Ron and Ginny, respectively. Apparently Sirius had used his time in solitude at Grimmauld Place to clean more rooms, thereby allowing for everyone to have their own.

Despite the early hour at which they had retired, Harry had not been graced with restful sleep. Instead, his mind kept wandering to the conversation he and Hermione had overheard between Richard and Ellen Granger the night before, especially the portions where either Granger had mentioned how much Hermione cared for him, and how keen they were to get to know him better. It was almost as if they knew something that he didn't. And that was the problem for Harry. Ever since the end of term, his mind had been drifting to Hermione more and more, almost as if it were searching for some hidden meaning in everything she said and did. It was enough to drive a bloke barmy.

That led Harry to his current situation, sitting on his bed with Hermione, with various pieces of parchment scattered before them. Most of the parchment was blank, but that didn't stop Hermione from looking at them occasionally, almost for reference. He watched as Hermione tucked a strand of her still-wet hair behind her ear as she gnawed on the end of a quill in concentration.

_What does that really mean?_ Harry thought. _That she cares about me? It could be innocent enough, of course, just like the kiss…and the note…and the hug yesterday morning…and the fact that her parents seem intent on getting to know me. There must be a pattern here. There must be!_

But, as Harry's mind drifted toward an inevitable conclusion, he was reminded of Sirius's words. _No! I have to be realistic about this!_ Harry reminded himself. _I must be reading too much into these things. Is it just because I want her to fancy- No! That can't be right. It's all just a coincidence…right?_

Harry glanced at Hermione again just as she looked up and smiled at him brightly. No words were exchanged, but the two made eye contact briefly before Hermione returned to her parchment and quickly scribbled something.

_That's it_, Harry concluded, _I have to find out for sure. But I can't be direct about it, since she obviously isn't being direct about it…if there's anything to be direct about at all. That's it! The holiday! That's the perfect chance for me to spend some extra time with her, outside of her element. If we're somewhere that we're both new to, then she won't have the home-field advantage,_ he rationalized, _then I'll be able to get a better idea about things!_

Satisfied with his plan, Harry turned his attention back to Hermione, and resolved to act as normal as possible. At least, as normal as he could. That, of course, meant that it would be a constant struggle to maintain the status-quo, due to the fact that he would constantly be thinking about it. But he paid it no attention as he searched his mind for a good conversation starter.

"Sorry if you were looking forward to going to Florida," Harry offered lamely. However, it was the fourth time that he had offered such an apology since Richard and Ellen had decided to change their holiday destination.

"Oh, Harry, how many times do I have to tell you? Stop apologizing. You didn't do anything wrong, so why are you apologizing?"

Harry shrugged. "Just something I'm used to, I guess."

"Then get out of that habit, will you? Not everything is your fault, and it just looks pathetic if you apologize just to make small talk."

"Sorry," he replied sheepishly.

"No you aren't. That's what I'm talking about. Don't be sorry for being sorry for something you shouldn't be sorry for."

"How many times did you just use the word 'sorry' in one sentence?"

"That's not important," she responded with a grin. "But I think we're getting off track. If we're only going to bring a few more people, we'd better choose them wisely."

"Well, I almost think that the number three would be a good one," he explained sheepishly, having made the suggestion earlier that taking only a few people would be best. "We can change it if you want."

"That's alright," she offered. "I was just poking fun, that's all."

"Anyway, if we're gonna bring Sirius, we might as well bring Remus along too."

"Why?" Hermione asked. "Not that I don't agree with you, but I'm just curious how you came to that conclusion. Bringing Remus along just because Sirius is coming doesn't seem like very sound logic."

"Um, well, Remus is pretty sharp, so that'll come in handy. Plus, I'm pretty sure he spent some time in the muggle world after Sirius went to Azkaban. So he'll be helpful there. And-"

Hermione put her hand up to silence him. "I get it, Harry. I just wanted you to justify your answer."

"Why does it always seem like we're in school?" he asked sarcastically. "What you just said sounds just like an essay assignment or something where we have to 'justify' our thoughts."

Hermione turned red, embarrassed. "Sorry," she said sheepishly. "I just…erm….I don't want it to sound like I'm only concerned with school…but…"

"Hermione," Harry said, stopping her rambling, "I was just kidding. I know that you don't have a giant homework planner for a brain. I was just having some fun with you."

She quirked an eyebrow at his last comment.

"But it does look like you have a dirty mind," Harry concluded, smiling broadly. "I mean, you took that comment completely wrong."

"No," she argued, "I was just trying to have some fun with you and embarrass you. Apparently it didn't work all that well."

"Not really, Hermione. I'll just tell you now, for future reference, you can't out-dirty my mind. I'm a teenage bloke, remember? Our minds are made of pure smut."

"Oh really?" she asked sweetly. "Then how about Professor McGonagall?"

"Huh?" he croaked, his eyes bulging suddenly as his mind processed her statement, immediately jumping to the wrong conclusion. "What about her?"

"How about we ask her if she wants to go with us? What did you think I meant?" she asked innocently, a playful grin plastered on her face.

"I…er…nevermind. But why her?"

Hermione shrugged. "Well, I don't know for certain, but I don't think she'll be very welcome back in the castle just yet, especially after what happened at the end of term." She was, of course, referencing the incident involving Hagrid and Umbridge that resulted in McGonagall's lengthy stay in St. Mungos earlier in the summer. "Also, she has that whole wisdom thing going for her, since she is the de facto head of the Order right now with Professor Dumbledore missing. So I just thought it would make sense."

"Fine, we can add her to our list," Harry concluded. He looked down at the forgotten piece of parchment that lay on the bed between the two. "You know, we haven't even really used this list of yours. I mean, we already knew all the strengths and weaknesses of everybody, so it's not _that_ useful."

Hermione twirled a strand of hair between her fingers absently at his words. "You're right. I didn't really see the point in creating one in the first place, but I figured it would be better to be safe than sorry."

"You mean you're in the habit of creating lists and tables for every little project, and this is no different?" Harry supplied helpfully.

Hermione slapped him playfully on the back of the head. "Oh, sod off you. I was just being…prepared is all."

"Speaking of being prepared," Harry began as he laughed at Hermione's antics, "let's get this finished up so we can do something productive."

Hermione stuck her tongue out at Harry in response, causing him to chuckle once more. He was definitely seeing a side of her that he normally didn't get a chance to see.

"Fine then," she said. "You choose the last person."

"Ron," Harry said immediately.

"No," Hermione retorted instantly. "Absolutely not."

"Why not?" Harry whined in a childish voice.

"Shall I list the reasons, Harry? I don't think he's ever spent more than ten seconds in the muggle world, so he'd stick out like a grown man playing in a child's ball pit."

Harry gave her a look that screamed 'are you kidding me?'

"Then there's the fact that he can't keep his mouth shut, even when doing something as simple as eating. He'd blow our cover so fast it'd make our heads spin. Not to mention the fact that he has all the subtlety of a rotting corpse in a fine restaurant."

"Where are you getting these analogies?" Harry asked, bewildered.

Hermione looked at the ground. "Daddy watches BBC2 a lot, especially _Top Gear_. I was just using some examples that Jeremy on there might use. That thing he said last night about wanting bridge to reach into his trousers? That came from the show."

Harry shook his head. "You're kidding, right?"

"No, daddy really does watch-"

"I meant about Ron."

"Oh, that. No, I'm not. He really is an uncouth, loudmouthed, gormless blighter. I mean, he can be a good friend, but the facts are the facts."

"Those might be true, but he is our best friend. How would it _look_ if we didn't invite him? More to the point, how would _he feel _if we didn't invite him? He is a part of the trio after all."

"Yes, but he's also a bad fit for this trip."

Harry considered her words and argument carefully, and realized that she was right. However, that did not negate his belief that Ron should be invited. Suddenly, he was hit by an idea.

"I think we should invite him," he announced.

"But he would just get in the way and be a nuisance the entire trip," Hermione argued.

"I know," Harry replied with a smile. "But we should still invite him. That doesn't mean we have to take him, just invite him."

"But what if he accepts our invitation? How do you plan to back out of that without looking like a complete arse?"

"Molly won't let him go, we both know that. As much as I love the woman, she is a bit overbearing and won't let anybody take any risks. We'll invite him, but he'll have to ask Molly for permission, and she won't give it. She'll make him stay behind, which lets us get out of taking him. As much as I want him to go since he's my best mate, you are, of course, right about him."

Hermione scratched her chin as she considered Harry's idea. "That's not a bad idea," she said finally. "But I think we still need another person to help us out, especially since we're not taking Ron. And we're not taking any other Weasley's while we're at it. They're all too inexperienced with the muggle world, and with the red hair, they stick out too much. What about Tonks?"

"That's a great idea," he commented honestly. "But the only question is how easy it would be for her to get away from her Auror duties on such short notice."

"Good point. As much as I think her metamorphic abilities would be great to have, she does have a tendency to wear odd hair styles." Harry looked at her pointedly. "And she's kind of tied down here right now, I would assume. I don't think it would be fair to ask her, otherwise she might feel obligated to do something rash to put her job in jeopardy in order to come with us."

"Then the same applies to Kingsley too," Harry added.

"And don't even think about Moody," Hermione said, shuddering. "He'd be worse to bring than Ron."

"Snape."

"What?"

"We should bring Snape."

"Are you daft, Harry? Think about all of the problems that would cause, especially between you and him."

"But he's a Death Eater…technically, so that would help us out. He would be the perfect choice. He'd be able to blend in and would be able to have access to Malfoy at the same time."

"But what possible reason could he have to go?" Hermione pointed out. "I'm sure Voldemort would find out that's he's gone over there. And since Professor Snape said that Voldemort won't mention the situation any more, that would seem highly suspicious, don't you think?"

"Well, worst case scenario would be that he says no," Harry offered. "We could just ask him and see what he says. After all, I think he would be in a better position than we are to make that kind of decision. I just think we should ask him…almost as an olive branch."

"Olive branch, Harry? You mean you want to make peace with Professor Snape? That seems awful mature, even if a bit misguided in our current situation."

Harry rose from the bed to leave the room, and Hermione followed suit. "Let's just say that he doesn't think the world of me right now, especially after I did something…not very smart in his office last term during one of our occlumency lessons."

"What?" she asked as they walked out the door.

"I can't talk about it. That wouldn't be right and would betray his trust."

The pair made their way downstairs to the first floor to start informing the others of their choices for the trip.

* * *

><p>Harry and Hermione entered the sitting room to find Ron and Ginny engaged in a heated game of Exploding Snap, with Ginny with the upper hand. The two watched the game for a moment before interrupting.<p>

"Ron, do you have a minute?" Harry asked, getting both Weasleys' attention.

Ron rose from his seat on the floor as Harry and Hermione sat on one of the sofas. Ginny sighed heavily and rose as well, before moving toward the room's exit.

"We'll only be a minute, Ginny," Hermione supplied helpfully as the youngest Weasley exited the room, pouting lightly.

Ron sat down in an armchair opposite Harry and Hermione.

"So, Ron, we told you that we'd tell you what's going on, and that's what we're here to do," Harry began. "Last night in the meeting, Snape told us that after my vision during the O.W.L.s, Voldemort became paranoid, thinking that I could read his mind or something. As a result, he took an object out of Bellatrix Lestrange's Gringotts vault and gave it to Lucius Malfoy to hide in his muggle casino in Las Vegas, in the States. We aren't sure what the item is, but we figure that, since Voldemort thinks its valuable enough to take out of Gringotts and send halfway around the world, it must be pretty important."

"Okay, so what does that mean then?" Ron asked.

"Well, Hermione's parents had invited me to go on holiday with them earlier in the summer, and we were going to leave next week. That's why they're here, to spend some time before their trip with us. Originally, we were going to Florida, but Hermione's dad…Richard, decided to change the trip to Las Vegas instead, so that we could check out Malfoy's casino. Anyway, he didn't feel comfortable with just Hermione and I being the only two magical people going, so we're going through and deciding who else to invite."

"Your name came up," Hermione interjected, somewhat derisively.

Ron, however, did not notice her tone. He was too excited at the prospect of going on an Order mission to another country. "Really?" he asked excitedly. "You want me to go with you?"

"I never said that…" Hermione mumbled. "I just said his name came up." She looked at Ron's gleeful face and sighed. "Yes," she said finally, raising her voice.

"The only thing is, Ron, is that you'd have to follow our lead. We would be spending our entire time in the muggle world, and I know you aren't the most…knowledgeable about the muggle world. You'd have to do what we say, and act as we do."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Ron replied quickly, a dumb smile still plastered on his face.

"Well?" Hermione began. "Aren't you going to go ask your mother if you can go? We don't want to make plans for you to come without her permission, of course."

"Oh! Right!" Ron exclaimed, leaping to his feet. He burst out of the room, leaving Harry and Hermione in his wake.

"I almost feel sorry for him, running into the meat grinder like that," Hermione commented with a sad shake of her head. "Molly will tell him no, and that will crush his spirits."

"Wanna go watch?" Harry asked earnestly.

"I thought you'd never ask," she replied with equal vigor and a large smile as the two left the sitting room and crossed the foyer quietly to the kitchen. They crept into the kitchen and closed the door softly behind them, and waited.

"No, you are absolutely not going on some foolish quest around the world!" Molly screeched. "What possessed you to think I would ever say yes to something so irresponsible? You are too young to go off gallivanting around trying to save the world. That's for grownups to do!"

"But Harry and Hermione are going!" Ron protested.

"If Harry and Hermione jumped off of a broom, would you do that too?" Molly countered.

Harry glanced at Hermione and smiled as he shook his head. He _had_ fallen off of a broom before.

"Maybe! It depends on what it was for!" Ron argued, not understanding the point of Molly's argument.

"Ron! The answer is no, and I will not hear any more on the subject, understood? Fred and George already threw away their future, and I will not have you doing the same, and that's final!"

She stormed out of the kitchen, leaving Ron, Harry, and Hermione alone.

"She's lucky she didn't wake the painting of Sirius's mother," Harry commented. "She was certainly loud enough."

Almost on cue, a loud shrieking filled the house.

"Get out you filthy blood traitor!" Walburga's portrait cried. She was obviously referring to Molly, who had exited the kitchen into the foyer where the portrait hung. "You dare defile my home with your filth? Kreacher! Kreacher! Remove this vermin from my house. Kreacher!"

Suddenly, the voice was drowned out, likely due either a silencing charm or the closing of the curtains. Harry couldn't understand why anyone would have opened the curtains in the first place though.

"Anyway…" he muttered, eliciting a giggle from Hermione.

The pair walked up to Ron as Harry clapped him on the shoulder for support. "Tough luck, eh mate?" he asked.

"Doesn't matter," Ron announced. "I'll just go anyway."

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry caught Hermione's look of abject horror, which she quickly hid beneath a mask of indifference. Harry realized he had to quickly defuse the situation.

"Are you sure that's such a good idea, mate?" he asked tentatively glancing back and forth between his two best friends. "How do you think your mum will react once she finds out you've gone with us behind her back? I reckon she'll be almost as cross as when she found out that the twins had dropped out of Hogwarts. Do you really want to cause that much trouble all over a little trip?"

"Little trip?" Ron balked. "You told me how important it was, and that's why I need to go! After all, it's for the Order! You can't get much more important than that!"

Hermione shook her head subtly at Ron's shortsightedness and small-minded view of the world. But she did not let Ron see her reaction. Harry, however, was a different story, as he noticed the shake of her head, which only hardened his resolve to press on in his attempt to convince Ron to stay.

"Ron, I'm sure we'll end up being fine without you. I don't want to antagonize your mum any more than I already did by going to the meeting last night. I'm sure that if you go with us, she'll end up finding some way to blame Hermione and I. Do you really want that?"

"Well, no," Ron replied sheepishly as he looked at the floor. "But I just wanted to go…"

"I know, Ron," Harry said in reassurance. "But I'm sure we'll be able to manage without you. Think of it this way: you can be our support back here if we end up needing anything. How about that?"

Hermione smirked at Harry's transparent attempt at giving Ron a useless task. But the redhead ate it up completely.

"Yeah, that'll work," he concluded. "Just make sure to let me know if you need anything while you're off on your international adventure, alright?"

"Sure thing," Harry responded half-heartedly, squeezing Ron's shoulder for support. "Now, I'm sure Ginny wants to finish up that game of Exploding Snap you were playing."

"Oh, I'm sure she does," Ron replied dryly. "She was winning. I'm not sure I want to go finish it."

"Go on, Ron," Hermione urged. "We've gotta talk with some other people too, and I'm sure you don't want to sit in on that. It'll get awfully boring."

Ron nodded and left the room, as Harry and Hermione released a collective sigh of relief.

"That was close," she breathed.

"But it's all taken care of now," Harry added. "Come on, let's talk to McGonagall and Snape."

* * *

><p>Richard Granger stepped into the sitting room at Number 12, Grimmauld Place, and stopped short. Directly in front of him, on their hands and knees with their heads in the fireplace, were what he assumed to be his daughter and her best friend, Harry. He closed his eyes and shook his head before reopening them. However, nothing had changed. They were still on all fours on the floor, pressed up against each other side by side. Part of him wanted to go and physically separate them and stop whatever perverted ritual they were engaged in. But another part of him wanted to turn around, leave the room, and forget everything he had seen, remembering that they were not in a relationship and that, at least on Hermione's side, they were denying that the potential for one even existed. Eventually, that part won over, and he spun on his heel and left the sitting room, leaving Harry and Hermione alone once more.<p>

Meanwhile, Harry and Hermione were not, as Richard believed, engaged in some inappropriate activity, but were instead conversing with Minerva McGonagall and Severus Snape via the floo system.

"They are not going to keep me away from this castle unless they remove me from my post!" McGonagall declared, after Hermione had asked why she was in her Hogwarts office. "Besides, that woman seems to be away from the school for the summer, so she isn't here to keep me away. Now, what can I do for you? Have you decided on who is going and who is staying?"

"That's actually what we called you for," Harry informed them. "Both of you, actually. Professor McGonagall-"

"Let me do this, Harry," Hermione offered. "You can do the other one." Her ghostly silhouette smiled ruefully. "Professor McGonagall, we'd actually like to have you come along with us. We just figured that with Professor Dumbledore gone, you would be in charge of the Order. It would make sense for us to invite you. Plus, I just thought it would be helpful to have you along."

McGonagall looked pensive for a moment as she considered the words of her star pupil. Finally, her look of contemplation was replaced with a warm smile. "I've been itching to do something productive ever since I got out of that sterile nightmare," she remarked, referring to the wizarding hospital. "It doesn't help that it's summer and, like it or not, there really isn't much to do at the school without a Headmaster. I'd love to come. I doubt the trip will be difficult, however, since we are only going to get information about what Lucius is hiding. I'm sure there'll be time to enjoy ourselves as well."

"Excellent!" Hermione exclaimed. "So you'll be ready to leave in a few days then, Professor?"

"Of course, Miss Granger…Hermione. And that leads me to something I want to mention. Since it is summer and I am going on holiday with you, I'd appreciate it if you both called me Minerva. For the summer only, that is," she clarified as she saw the exuberance on Harry's face. "It is not, NOT, I repeat, meant to give you free lease to call me by my first name once school resumes. Understood, Harry?"

"Yes…Minerva," he replied.

"Now, was there something else you wanted to discuss?" McGonagall asked.

Hermione perked up even more at this and grinned evilly at Harry. "Actually, Harry had something that he wanted to ask. Go ahead, Harry."

Harry turned to her and stuck his tongue out at her. "You'll be the death of me, woman," he muttered with a grin before turning back to the other two participants in the call. "Anyway…Professor Snape," he began with forced respect, "I was wondering if you wanted to join us as well. I thought that your experience with…espionage as well as your familiarity with the Death Eaters, would prove valuable."

"Potter, are you inviting me to come on holiday with you?" Snape sneered.

"I was thinking it would also be a nice thing to do," Harry responded through gritted teeth.

"While your nobility and generosity in this case astounds me, Potter, you have failed to consider an important point. What excuse would I have to go to Las Vegas? I would assume, based on your… heartfelt invitation, that you would employ my unique position to operate from within the Malfoy operation, am I correct?" He did not wait for a response. "I do recognize the unique handicap afforded to you by your ignorance and shortsightedness, but even I must scoff at your naiveté. How would I be able to blend into Malfoy's organization without a valid reason for visiting? Now, it may be true that I could accompany you and simply employ my investigative and surveillance abilities, but that would not be the most efficient use of my talents, would it?"

"Perhaps this would be an excellent opportunity to teach young Mr. Malfoy about the workings of his father's business ventures?" McGonagall suggested with a small smile at Harry.

"I question the effectiveness of that idea, Minerva," Snape complained. "Contrary to popular belief, I am not Mr. Malfoy's godfather. The short notice of the excursion could cause some problems as well."

"And yet Severus, you are quite good friends with his father, not to mention Draco's favorite Hogwarts professor. If anyone has the ability to steer him away from the ranks of You-Know-Who, it would be you. I think you should take advantage of that. Contact him, tell him that you think it is time that he learned more about his father's dealings, and offer to take him to Las Vegas to observe them firsthand. Granted, it might seem a bit forced, but if anyone can sell it, it would be you."

Snape sighed. "If I do this, I will be unable to travel with the rest of you. I must arrive separately, preferably first to allay suspicion. I will also be unable to interact with your group as much as you may desire."

"That's perfectly alright," Harry agreed.

"And you may _not_ call me Severus. There are some lines that a professor must not cross, and that is one of them."

"Right…" Harry replied slowly. "Well then, I guess we'll see you there…_sir_."

* * *

><p>Harry and Hermione withdrew their heads from the fireplace after ending the call with McGonagall and Snape and rose to their feet. As they turned around, they found Sirius, Remus, Ellen, and Richard sitting on the sofas in the sitting room.<p>

"Um," Harry began, scratching the back of his head absently, "what're you guys doing here?"

"Richard told us you two were fooling around on the floor, so we naturally had to come down here and watch," Sirius replied.

"I don't think those were his _exact_ words," Ellen corrected with a smirk at Harry and Hermione's embarrassed expressions.

"We were, um, just calling Professor McGonagall…I mean Minerva, and Professor Snape. We were asking them to come with us. Speaking of which, Remus," Harry turned his attention to the werewolf, "you wanna come too? I'm sure Sirius here wouldn't want to be without you, since I think you mean a _lot_ to him."

Remus's eyes widened slightly at Harry's insinuation, and he glanced over at Sirius who was simply shaking his head.

"Harry," he began, "I'm sorry to tell you this, but you never would have cut it as a Marauder. I mean, you can sometimes come up with some good insults, but that one was just pathetic."

"I'm sorry if I don't have as much experience insulting people as you do, Sirius. It might be because I'm an all around nice guy, and you're just an old wanker, but I can't be sure. Remus, what do you think?"

"About Sirius or about going with you? If you're talking about Sirius, then I think you're spot on, Harry. He is a creepy old man, but that's neither here nor there. As for going with you to the States, I can't see a reason not to. In fact, I quite think I'd enjoy it, if only to protect you from Sirius's immature foolishness."

"Great!" Harry exclaimed. "Now we won't have to worry about stupid pranks from Sirius."

"Ah, you might be right about that one, Harry," Remus agreed, "but you might still have to worry about pranks from both of us. You do realize that you're putting the two remaining true Marauders together at one time in a foreign land, which is ripe for pranking, don't you?"

"Yeah…I never thought of that," Harry admitted, glancing at the floor. "But at the very least we'll have Minerva along too to keep you two on a short _leash_, if you get my meaning."

Richard and Ellen appeared confused at Harry's inside joke, but didn't mention it. Instead, Richard changed the subject.

"Then if we're all set with who's going, we're gonna need to buy our tickets. Since its such late notice, we might not be able to get seats together. But if that's what we gotta do…" He rose from his seat. "I don't suppose you have a computer here, do you?" he asked. "I remember Hermione telling me something about muggle technology not working in a magical house, but I don't want to assume."

"Nope," Sirius replied. "I wouldn't even know what to do with one if I had one. I don't know anything about the damned things. But your question does remind me of something that I have to take care of."

"What about a telephone?" Richard asked.

"Never needed one," Sirius answered. "I don't really know anybody in the muggle world…or didn't used to, so I didn't need one. The floo system works just as well."

Richard sighed. "Then I'm gonna need to go back to our house to make the changes to our trip. The Internet will be the easiest way, but even then, it might take a little while, depending on how difficult British Airways decides to be today. Oh, and I've gotta find a hotel now too…"

"Actually, Richard, do you mind if Remus and I come with you? I'm actually interested to see one of these computers in action, and Remus and I have something we need to take care of that we're gonna need your help with."

Remus looked at him curiously. "We do?" he asked.

Sirius gave him a significant look. "Yes, we do. Remember?"

Suddenly, Remus's face lit up with recognition. "Oh, right! Yeah we do have something that we'll need your help with, Richard. If it wouldn't be too much trouble…"

Richard shrugged. "Fine by me. You coming too, Ellen?"

She shook her head. "I don't think so. Somebody's got to stay here and keep an eye on things. And I certainly don't think I want Molly here alone with the kids, especially since she's been in a mood all day. You go on ahead."

"Do you need anything from the house that you want me to pick up?"

She thought for a moment before shaking her head. "Not that I can remember. You boys have fun now, you hear?"

Sirius and Remus rose from their seats and moved toward the fireplace with Richard. Richard grabbed a handful of floo powder from the container on the mantle and threw it down at his feet.

"37 Baskerville Road, Covingham, Swindon," he called out, disappearing in the green flames. Sirius and Remus followed suit immediately afterward, disappearing as well.

"Well," Ellen announced as soon as they had disappeared, her excitement bubbling over, "tell me a bit about yourself, Harry."

"Don't do it, Harry," Hermione warned.

"Why?" he asked.

"Yes, Hermione, why?" Ellen asked as well, her head cocked, awaiting an answer.

"She'll just use it against you…or me," Hermione replied softly.

Harry's eyes darted between mother and daughter, trying to decide on the best course of action. Finally, he decided on a plan that, he hoped, would thread the eye of the needle. "Well, I'm fifteen, almost sixteen," he began, trying to give some obvious information to appease Ellen, while still protecting his and Hermione's dignity. The last thing he wanted was for Ellen to be able to embarrass them, especially after hearing what he had heard the night before. Knowing what he knew of the Grangers, and especially Ellen, he felt that it was a distinct possibility that she would do so, should she have enough information.

"Yes, yes, I know that," Ellen said, waving him off. "But I want to know about _you_. If I'm gonna spend a holiday with you, I might as well know something about you, right?" Harry had to admit that her explanation did at least make some sense. "And even though Hermione's told me almost everything she knows about you," Hermione's face reddened at this, "I still don't think I know very much."

"Well…I play Quidditch," Harry said lamely.

"I know that already. You have the most important position on the team. Or so Hermione says. Tell me something that isn't known by half of the wizarding world."

"Um…" Harry racked his mind to try and come up with something. "I once performed accidental apparition onto the roof of my school," he told her finally.

"Really?" Ellen asked with unbridled interest. "Why was that?"

Hermione shook her head as Harry seemed to open up. "Why, Harry?" she whispered to herself. "Why?"

"Well, my cousin and his gang were playing their favorite game-"

"Which was?" Ellen asked.

"Harry Hunting," Harry replied. "They'd chase me down and try and beat me up without getting caught. However, if they got caught, they'd find a way to blame it on me. But anyway, in this case, they were chasing me when suddenly, I found myself on the roof of the school. It took over an hour for them to get me down from there, at which point I was the laughing stock of the school. Uncle Vernon was none too pleased, to say the least."

"And what did he do?"

"I…erm….got locked in my….room," Harry finished lamely.

"Well, that doesn't sound too bad," Ellen replied. "For how long?"

Not wanting to reveal the truth, Harry fibbed…slightly. "I, um…don't remember."

Ellen looked at Harry strangely, evaluating his response. "Uh huh," she said skeptically. However, knowing better than to press him on the issue, she let the matter drop. "Well, I think I'll go see what Molly's up to," she announced. "Maybe she and I can have a bit of a chat. I haven't really got to talk to her properly since we got here." Ellen rose from the sofa and left the room, leaving Harry and Hermione alone once more.

"I told you," Hermione said once she was gone. "I told you it was a bad idea to talk to her. You have no idea what you've started, Harry."

* * *

><p><em>July 18, 2011<em>

_3:49 PM_

Richard Granger stepped out of the fireplace in the sitting room of Grimmauld Place and took in the empty room. Sirius and Remus had gone through the floo system a moment before, leaving him to follow after doing one final check of his residence in Covingham. Earlier that day, he and the other two had returned there to make the final arrangements for their trip to the States, slated for a mere six days later. Despite his earlier predictions, it had not been exceptionally difficult to change their flight and destination from Florida to McCarran International Airport in Las Vegas. However, due to the short notice, he had been unable to get seven seats that were nearby. As a result, he was forced to purchase three pairs of seats and one lone seat for the seventh passenger. However, from what he remembered from his past international travel experience as well as the seat map he had seen online, that issue should not be a big deal, due to the configuration of the plane.

At the same time, he had naturally been forced to choose new lodgings, eventually finding one that offered relatively good rates while not being completely booked. The one problem with traveling to Las Vegas during the summer, he had found, was that many resorts are completely full due to the large influx of vacationers.

After that, he had helped Sirius and Remus with their errand, and he now understood why they asked him to come along. He just hoped that Harry would end up being pleased.

"So how'd it go?" Ellen's voice jerked away from his thoughts.

"We're leaving bright and early on the 24th," he replied.

"What does 'bright and early' mean?"

"Seven o'clock in the morning. But there weren't many options that day from Heathrow to Vegas, and I also had to take into consideration the time change. We won't actually get in until almost three o'clock in the afternoon, their time."

"That's fine with me, but I don't know how the kids will take it. Well, scratch that. I don't know how well Harry will take it. Hermione's one who can get up early with no problems. Everything I know about teenage boys screams the exact opposite about them."

Richard shrugged. "Well, he'll have plenty of time to sleep on the flight."

"Well then, based on your attitude, I can tell you couldn't care less about it then. So do you want to be the one to break the news to him then?" his wife asked, nodding toward the door to the foyer. Richard grimaced slightly before nodding and leading the way.

End of Chapter 5

A/N: So this was a relatively short chapter overall. However, it was also the last of what I like to call the "bricklaying" chapters, meaning the chapters that provide the initial introduction and back story. Chapter 6 will begin the story proper. In the mean time, I just wanted to tie together a lot of various aspects, including cementing who was going and who was staying. I also didn't want to take too many characters and turn this into an ensemble story, simply due to the fact that I wouldn't have enough for all of the extra characters to do. I'm in good shape with who I have going as it is. I also want to make one little apology: if for some reason something seemed off in this chapter (which I can't say will be the case), then it is due to the fact that my brain is a pile of mush at this point. I've come down with a cold that's been going around, so it takes tremendous effort for me to do even the most basic mental tasks, especially in the wee hours of the morning. But, that's all water under the bridge, so on with the show!

**Chapter Title Hint:** The next chapter deals with the group's departure from Britain. Personally, I felt the title I chose was a great fit for the chapter, especially considering recent events for me personally. Just the other day, I gave someone a ride to the airport on a pretty windy morning. On the way back, I let this song play, which seemed to fit perfectly.

Aside from that hint, there isn't a whole lot of business to take care of at the end of this chapter. I do ask that, if you have any suggestions about my writing style or other tips, please let me know. I'm always trying to improve my delivery for future stories. However, I will point out that if there are aspects of this story that are not sufficiently realistic for some readers, it may be purposeful, in order to keep the lighthearted and fun tone of the story. This entire story is based around a somewhat unrealistic premise to begin with, which was chosen partially on the basis of it being fun and entertaining.

Also pertaining to chapter titles, there is a hint as to the title of chapter 20 hidden within chapter 4. The only hint I'll give is that it is hidden in a line of dialogue. If you're a glutton for punishment or just really want to re-read that chapter and get a head start on what's to come in the story, it's hiding in there waiting to be found.

Finally, I just want to take care of one final thing, relating to the title for this chapter. If you like this little gimmick, then I will continue to do it for future chapters. Otherwise, please let me know. But due to FFnet's rules, I cannot put a real link. So I'll do it this way:

"If I were a Youtube video, my address would be /watch?v=0AIlz08fZos. Now, that's not to say that I am a Youtube video…I was just speaking hypothetically."

Thank you again for reading, and please leave a review if you enjoy my writing. I'll see you again soon with chapter 6.


	6. Ride the Wild Wind

Brief Author's Note: I want to give half of a congratulations to GodricG89 for selecting the title of this chapter. While the guess was incorrect, they gave a "backup" answer that was correct. If I could give half of a smiley, I would. But for now, this will have to suffice.

Chapter 6

**Ride the Wild Wind**

July 24, 2011

3:59 AM

Harry groaned as he turned over in his bed and covered his face with his pillow. He knew that it was quickly approaching four o'clock in the morning, when he was supposed to get up, but that was not something that he was looking forward to. He had made the unwise decision to stay up until just after midnight with Ron, playing wizard's chess. He had had shorter nights before, so he figured that he would be just fine with less than five hours of sleep. However, what he hadn't counted on was the fact that he was excited for the trip. Too excited. Too excited to sleep properly. As a result, Harry had spent most of the night tossing and turning in his bed, trying to calm his mind down enough to sleep. But to no avail.

As he wallowed in his own misery, Harry heard a creaking from the other side of the room as his door opened softly.

"Harry?" Ellen asked softly. "Time to get up Harry."

Harry grumbled incoherently in response.

"Come on, Harry," Ellen pressed. "You knew we'd have to get up early this morning."

"Don' wanna," he whined into his pillow as he pushed his face into it further.

"Harry," Ellen said, the patience lessened in her voice, "you've got five minutes before I send Sirius in here to wake you up. I don't think you want that, do you?" She turned and left the room, closing the door audibly on the way out.

With a final groan, Harry rolled over and out of bed, stretching as he did so. After hearing a few healthy pops, he relaxed and left the room to head downstairs to the kitchen.

He entered the kitchen in his oversized flannel sleep pants and sat down at the large table. Ellen walked into the kitchen a moment later, followed by a drowsy Hermione who sat down next to Harry. As soon as she sat down, Hermione promptly dropped her head into her arms on the table and tried to fall back asleep.

"Oh, come off it, Hermione," Richard commented as he came into the kitchen, "you've been up earlier. You had plenty of time to sleep, so I don't want to hear you complaining."

"Tea Harry? Hermione?" Ellen offered, sitting down at the table after making her own cup. "We're not gonna have breakfast here this morning, since it's too early. We'll just eat in the airport." Harry shook his head, declining he offer, while Hermione grunted in the negative. "Well you're certainly a lively bunch this morning. Come on, look alive. We'll be leaving in a little while, and then there won't be time to sit around."

"There'll be plenty of time to sit around," Hermione argued sleepily, "we'll be on the plane for more than fifteen hours."

"True, but you know how hard it is to sleep on a plane," Ellen pointed out. "You've always been too excited to sleep on planes; wanting to see something new, go on a new adventure."

"I've been on plenty of adventures in the last few years, thank you very much," she retorted. "But," she paused as she yawned widely, "that shower's not going to take itself. If I fall asleep in the shower, don't wake me…please."

"We'll just send Harry in to check on you then," Sirius announced as he entered the room, fully dressed and wide awake.

"I think not!" Richard exclaimed.

"And how are you so wide awake so bloody early in the morning?" Hermione asked.

"Hermione! Language," Ellen chided.

Sirius whistled quietly as he made his way over to the counter to partake of the tea Ellen had made. "Just an early riser, I guess," he replied.

"Early riser my-" Harry began to complain, only to be interrupted by Hermione.

"Harry…" Hermione warned.

"What?" he asked innocently. "Why is it that you can talk like that, but I can't?"

"I'll be upstairs," Hermione announced, completely ignoring Harry's question. "Be back down in a little bit."

She left the kitchen, leaving the other four to sit quietly as two of them drank their morning tea.

"Shouldn't you two be drinking coffee instead?" Harry asked.

"Fresh out," Sirius responded. "With Molly and the kids here, we're going through food faster than usual. Plus, with the trip coming up, I didn't have Kreacher get any extra food, since I didn't want to seem like I was inviting Molly to stay longer. I figure if there's no food, there'll be no reason for her to stay."

"Right…such a welcoming host you are, Sirius."

"I do my best," he replied with a grin as he took another sip. "Now, go get ready, Harry. Knowing you, you probably haven't packed yet, which means you're going to need extra time. If you hurry, I won't tell Hermione how unprepared you are."

Harry scowled lightheartedly at his godfather before rising from the table.

"Oh, and Harry?" Sirius called as Harry stepped out of the kitchen, "come on back down here when you're done. There's something I want to take care of before we leave."

"Okay…" Harry replied uncertainly as he left the room to return upstairs to get ready.

After showering and hastily packing his trunk with what ended up being most of his belongings, Harry dragged his trunk downstairs and set it next to the front door. Remus, who was also coming downstairs, freshly showered and ready, dropped a small carry bag next to Harry's trunk. Harry presumed that that was the older man's luggage for the trip.

"Are you really bringing your Hogwarts trunk?" Remus asked as he looked at Harry's oversized luggage. Harry nodded in response. "Well, we'll have to do something about that then, won't we?"

Remus pulled out his wand and aimed it at Harry's trunk. A moment later, a large black, wheeled suitcase rested in its place.

As he tucked his wand away, Remus explained. "That should be a bit easier to carry, not to mention blend in a bit better, don't you think?"

"I guess so. Thanks Remus."

"Any time, Harry. Now, I think Sirius wanted to see you in the sitting room before we left if I'm not too mistaken. Let's see if he's ready." Remus led the way out of the foyer and into the sitting room where Sirius, Ellen, Richard, Hermione, and Minerva were gathered. Harry assumed the McGonagall had arrived while he was in the shower. Hermione, for her part, was idly playing with her damp hair, struggling to work out any knots.

"Why wouldn't I be ready?" Sirius asked as the pair of Harry and Remus entered the room.

"Well, knowing you," Remus began, "I wouldn't bet the other way, let me just say that."

"So what did you want to see me about?" Harry asked as he surveyed the room. "You didn't invite all of these good people here under the pretense that they would see me do stand-up, did you? Because Sirius, you know I'm retired!"

"Har har, Harry," Sirius laughed disingenuously. "There's a real knee-slapper. No, seriously, I did want to give you something before we left." He pulled a relatively large box out from behind the sofa and rose to hand it to Harry.

"What is it?" Harry asked as he moved to shake the box.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Richard said quickly.

Harry looked at him curiously. "So you're in on this too. Does this have anything to do with that little errand you helped The Brothers Mutt here with the other day?"

"Richard Granger does not comment on rumours or speculation," Richard announced diplomatically. "Now just open it."

Harry took one last look around the room before tearing into the solid colored deep green paper.

"We figured since it's your birthday in a week and we'll be on holiday, we might as well give you your gift now," Sirius explained as Harry continued to open the gift.

As he tore the final bits of paper from the package and got his first look at his gift, Harry looked up. "Is this…real?" he asked.

Sporting a broad grin, Sirius nodded. "I thought of it that night when you called me from Hogwarts and told me about your cousin. I knew I just had to get you one, but I knew nothing about them, so I had to take Richard along to help. Remus is in on it too, so it's from both of us."

Harry looked down again at the large box to see the image of a new notebook computer staring back at him along with a carrying case.

"I thought muggle electronics didn't work in magical homes?" Hermione asked, peering over at the box. She couldn't see the exact specifications, but it at least appeared to be a good, brand-name computer.

"They don't," Sirius confirmed. "But it's not on now, is it? That's why we gave it to you now. We knew you couldn't use it while you're staying here, but since you kind of hinted about wanting one when we talked that night before term ended, we thought that our holiday would be the perfect opportunity to get you one. That way you can use it while we're gone."

Harry discarded the paper as he examined the box closely.

"Oh, just think about it, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed. "You could get so much homework…er…stuff done on the flight with that!"

"Don't I need to charge it first though?" he asked, his limited understanding of electronics kicking in.

"Yes," Richard replied, "but if we leave for the airport early enough, you might have time to charge it using their outlets. There's even Internet access there too so that you can kill the time while we're waiting for our flight."

"Yeah," Harry began, somewhat sheepishly, "I wouldn't know the first thing about getting this thing on the Internet. Sad, I know, considering the times we live in, but the Dursleys never let me touch their computer, and I was never allowed to go to the library in Little Whinging to use theirs. But," he added, perking up, "I guess there's no time like the present to learn, right? Thanks a lot Sirius, Remus. And thanks Mr. Granger for helping them out with buying it too, although I am kind of curious what they would have come up with without you..."

Richard shuddered slightly at the thought. Although he didn't really know the boy, all he had had to offer was his knowledge of muggle electronics, which was not much of a sacrifice, if he was honest. However, watching Sirius, and to a lesser extent, Remus, in the big box electronics store, had been quite amusing, to say the least. Richard had a sneaking suspicion that, had he not been present, Sirius would have offered the store more than the asking price for the computer, just on the basis that he had no idea what it was and the fact that the salesperson was 'nice.' In the end, Richard had suggested a middling computer, in order to keep costs down, while still giving something that would be functional into the near future.

Harry rose, clutching his newest possession, and everyone else slowly followed suit.

"Can I just ask," Sirius began as they stood, "what in Merlin's name is an Internet?"

Hermione's tired eyes suddenly brightened at the prospect of explaining something so complicated. But her father beat her to it.

"Think of it this way," he began as they grabbed their luggage, "it's like the world at your fingertips. It's as close to magic as the muggle world has ever gotten, with the ability to do almost anything instantly…"

Harry turned to Hermione as Richard and Sirius continued to talk in the background.

"He just had to go and burst your bubble, didn't he?" Harry asked, referring to the fact that Richard had answered the question instead of Hermione.

"He's always done that, that's why I'm always the one whose hand is in the air first when a question comes up. I've always had to race him to answer."

Harry threw a friendly arm around her shoulder. "Well, just think of it this way: we're gonna go to Las Vegas and deal with a situation that requires knowledge of the magical world. I have no doubt you'll find a way to show him up then. Just you wait and see."

"Thanks Harry," she whispered with a smile. "Now come on, we've got to get going otherwise we'll miss our flight."

"But it doesn't leave for a couple of hours yet!" he objected as he dropped his arm from her shoulder as she made a move for her luggage.

"But I don't know how long it'll take to get through security," she replied. "I've never gone through the magical area of an airport before. It could take longer." She was, of course, referring to Remus's explanation from a few days before that Heathrow, like many other major airports, did offer forms of magical transportation, and even included a magical reception area.

"Not bloodly likely," Harry replied under his breath. "They have magic. How long could it possibly take?" But before Hermione could respond, Harry was struck with a sudden realization. "Sirius!" he exclaimed, getting the older man's attention from across the room.

"Yeah, pup?" he asked, turning to face Harry and face away from McGonagall, who had just drawn her wand and pointed it at Sirius.

"You can't go to Heathrow, remember? You're still a wanted man!"

Sirius chuckled in response. "Way ahead of you there, kiddo. Minnie here was gonna take care of that for me."

"A glamour charm?" Harry asked. Sirius and McGonagall nodded. "But what about when we have to go through magical security? We are using the floo to get to the magical area of the airport, remember? I'm sure they check for glamour charms."

"Harry," Remus interjected comfortingly, "I've done my fair share of muggle traveling. It's cheaper than magical travel, at least internationally. But I've always gone into the magical departure terminal before going into the muggle part of the airport, so I know this from experience: you only have to go through magical security if you are travelling magically. Otherwise, they leave it to the muggles to deal with."

"Isn't that pretty irresponsible?" Hermione asked bluntly. "I mean, I understand the whole point of security, but couldn't a wizard or witch just use magic to commit some crime in the muggle world and it would go undetected?"

Remus shrugged. "I never said it makes sense. It's simply the way the magical and muggle governments have agreed to run things, since the muggles want some sort of control over their own affairs. So far, from what I hear, it's worked out pretty well, since there haven't been any major incidents that have proven the system to be a failure."

"So relax, Harry, and let's get going," Sirius added, turning around to face Harry once more. His once dark hair had been replaced by graying blonde, and his facial hair had completely disappeared. A bit more fat had been added to his face, to change his facial structure, giving Sirius an almost completely new appearance.

"Ready?" he asked as he picked up the handle of his luggage and looked at Harry and nodded toward the fireplace.

* * *

><p>July 24, 2011<p>

4:53 AM

Harry hated the floo network. Ever since he had mistakenly ended up in Knockturn Alley in the summer before his second year, he had had a pathological hatred for the magical method of transportation. He would have much rather flown the distance to Heathrow Airport, or even taken a portkey, despite its nauseating effects. The floo system though, just made him dizzy, especially due to the fact that it was nowhere near instantaneous. In fact, he would have rather crawled the distance from Grimmauld Place to Heathrow, but that was not an option he was presented with.

He also hated the fact that he could never make it through the floo system standing up.

This time was no different.

As his vision cleared from the trip and he picked himself up, Harry was greeted by an expansive, modern looking curved room with a glass ceiling supported by great white arches and light gray concrete floors. After he had regained his bearings, Harry tightened his grip on the handle of his suitcase and stepped through the threshold and into the airport reception area before stepping to the side to wait for the others to arrive. As he waited, Harry took in his immediate surroundings.

Instead of the dark, drab interior that he remembered from the Ministry of Magic atrium when he had visited for his hearing, this magical reception area was bright, spacious, and modern looking. Brushed metal accents of various shapes lined one wall, as the other was completely taken up by one long, solid pane of glass overlooking the tarmac. As he turned around, Harry found that the roughly dozen fireplaces themselves were nothing like the antique relics that adorned the Ministry atrium, but were made of a dull, brushed metal similar to the decorative panels on the wall. The floo arrival points were also cordoned off from the rest of the magical terminal by a large, semi-circular half-wall, with only one entry and one exit. Both were staffed by two guards.

Suddenly, a fireplace to his left flared up, depositing Richard Granger, who stumbled a bit as he landed, but quickly regained his balance and brushed himself off before stepping away from the fireplace with his luggage.

Other fireplaces around the terminal continued to flare up and deposit visitors, most of whom Harry did not recognize. However, almost at regular intervals, another member of his party would emerge from a random fireplace and make their way over to the slowly growing group that had formed around Harry.

Once the group was completely assembled, Sirius took the lead and made his way over to the break in the dividing wall labeled 'Exit/Departures.' He stepped up to the nearest counter and presented a magical identification card that he pulled from his pocket.

"Where'd he get that?" Harry whispered to Hermione. She just shrugged in response as she turned her attention back to Sirius and the bored looking male guard.

"And your destination, sir?" he asked in a monotone voice.

"New York, in the States," Sirius replied in an accent unfamiliar to Harry. "But I'm travelling muggle," he added.

The guard nodded slowly, not seeming to care, and handed Sirius's identification back to him. "Then have a nice flight Mr. Andreyovichosky," he said with forced politeness before calling the next person forward as Sirius stepped away and pretended to be interested in the massive glass wall, in order to avoid being associated with the others.

Harry and Hermione chuckled at Sirius, just as Harry was stepped forward to the other guard, as the side of the counter used by Sirius was currently occupied by other travelers.

Rightly assuming that Harry did not possess identification, the guard asked his name.

"Harry Potter," Harry replied with mock arrogance.

"That's bollocks kid and you know it. I can tell you that Potter would never be allowed to leave the country with the tripe he's been spewing lately. Now what's your real name?" the guard retorted.

"Well, Mr…" Harry glanced at the small nametag affixed to the guard's chest, "Bomley, I find your lack of faith disturbing."

"Look kid, I don't have time for this. Either tell me your real name or I'll report you to the Ministry."

"Fine," Harry grumbled. He rapidly searched his mind for a pair of names that would somehow fit together. "Manuel Florencio," he said finally, glancing back at Hermione who was simply shaking her head.

"And where are you going?" Bomley asked, forcing Harry to think again. His mind immediately went to the ancient globe he had been playing with the night before in between moves in his chess game with Ron. One of the advantages…and disadvantages of playing chess with Ron is that his moves could sometimes take a long time as he tried to perfect his strategy.

"Tijuana, Mexico," Harry replied curtly. "I've got muggle family there that are flying me over to visit."

"Fine," Bomley replied as he stamped a piece of parchment and handed it to Harry, calling forward the next traveler. Harry looked down at the parchment to see that he had been granted clearance from the floo network. He looked up to see Sirius tucking away a similar piece of parchment. Harry realized he must have missed Sirius receiving his copy when he was laughing with Hermione. He walked over to Sirius and stood by the massive window as other magical travelers milled around and went about their business.

"That has to be the most worthless security I've ever seen," Harry commented as he gazed out the window.

"What do you expect from those quacks at the Ministry?" Sirius asked from beside him. "They haven't been able to catch me in three years, and remember, I'm an escaped 'murderer.'" He used finger quotes on the last word. "So how well do you expect them to do when barring you from leaving the country?"

A few minutes later, after all members of their party had passed through the pathetic excuse for a check-in, the seven followed the overhead hanging signs toward the barrier between the muggle and magical portions of the airport. As they walked, they passed by various counters offering to sell different international portkeys, and some advertising low-price international floo travel.

However, as the massive magical terminal curved toward its terminus, there was one kiosk, embedded in the wall itself, that was larger than any others.

"Ah, there it is," Sirius commented, taking off toward it.

Harry looked closer only to see that it was a small Gringotts branch, complete with a handful of goblins. Signs outside the bank offered various services, including currency exchange, last minute withdrawals, and travel insurance.

Sensing that this may be his last chance to withdraw some gold from his account, Harry followed Sirius into the bank, leaving the other members of their party behind. After waiting in line for a few minutes behind Sirius, Harry was called up to one of the three reception counters.

He rummaged around in his pocket for his Gringotts key, which he had made sure to not leave alone at Grimmauld Place due to the fact that house-elves are allowed to withdraw money from vaults.

"I'd like to withdraw some money," he said as he placed his key on the counter.

"Naturally," the goblin teller snarled. "We don't do much else here. How much did you want?"

Harry thought for a moment about what amount would be reasonable to take on a trip of this nature. "How much do I have available exactly?" he asked.

The teller rolled his eyes and stretched out his left hand and waited. A brief moment later, a piece of parchment flew into his hand, and he slid it across the counter to Harry. Harry flipped it over to see a five digit number. "Is that a lot?" he asked, knowing next to nothing of magical finance.

"Twelve thousand galleons," the teller whispered impatiently, glancing at the parchment, "is no small sum. However, it is also the balance of your trust account, the account that was designated for use during your Hogwarts years. Due to the fact that you are still a minor, I cannot give you a balance of your family's main vault. You will be contacted by Gringotts when you come of age, in order to discuss that matter."

Looking back down at the parchment, Harry made up his mind about the current transaction. "How about one thousand galleons?" he asked, maintaining his civility in the face of the goblin's previously unmasked nastiness.

The goblin's eyes bulged slightly at Harry's request. "Are you quite certain of this?" he asked uncertainly, all hostility gone from his voice.

"Well, yeah," Harry replied. "And can you convert it to muggle Pounds as well? I'll be doing a bit of travelling and I can get it converted to the local currency when I get there."

The goblin nodded and disappeared into a back room for a moment. While he was gone, Harry took the opportunity to look around the small alcove tucked away in the wall of the terminal. While the inside of the airport itself seemed to be decorated with a modern flair, the inside of the bank hearkened back to the antiquated look of the main Gringotts branch in Diagon Alley. Harry was certain that this branch was much newer than the one in Diagon Alley, which led him to assume that it was simply decorated in a similar fashion for uniformity.

As he looked around, Harry noticed that Sirius had concluded his business and was leaving. As he walked by, Sirius stopped by Harry.

"So what'd you need to do?" Harry asked him.

"Just get a little bit of spending money out," Sirius replied. "You never know when you'll need it. Or how much," he added with a wink before leaving the bank.

A moment later, Harry's goblin teller returned, carrying what appeared to be a normal leather wallet.

"May I ask if you have a muggle wallet, Mr. Potter?" the goblin asked respectfully, much more aware of Harry's identity and status now that he had seen his balance statement and had likely spoken to his superiors during his absence.

Harry shook his head in the negative. He had never needed one, especially since the Dursleys had never allowed him to have money. Any time he had carried money in the wizarding world, it had been galleons, which were simply gold coins that he carried around in his pocket. He had never needed to own a wallet.

"Then I have taken the liberty of having one prepared for you," the goblin announced proudly.

"Prepared?" Harry questioned.

"Correct," the goblin confirmed. "This is no ordinary muggle wallet. It has been tailored to respond to your touch only. It will not open for any others. Normally these wallets are reserved for international travelers only, due the inherent danger in international travel. While I do not know your destination for certain, I think we can both agree that you are travelling internationally today, so that I may provide you with this wallet courtesy of Gringotts?" he gave Harry a significant look, causing the latter to nod tentatively.

"Excellent!" the goblin exclaimed ,baring his sharp teeth menacingly. "I have also taken the liberty of loading this wallet with your withdrawal already. At the current exchange rate, your one thousand galleon withdrawal has been converted into exactly £10000. I have waived the normal one percent conversion charge as a courtesy."

That seemed like more than Harry had anticipated, but he did not question it. Instead, he asked the other question on his mind.

"How were you able to get the wallet to respond only to me? I haven't done anything to key it to me."

"Ah, Mr. Potter, you underestimate the resources of Gringotts. Do you think that we do not have your blood on record, or your muggle fingerprint? Either of those would be acceptable means of identification for this wallet, and we have incorporated them into it." The goblin hand the wallet over to Harry, who promptly put it in the back pocket of his oversized jeans. "Is there anything else I can help you with today?"

Harry, still in shock at the sudden change in the goblin's demeanor, shook his head. "No, thank you," he replied politely as he turned and exited the bank.

He met up with the rest of the group, and was immediately pestered by a round of questions, mainly from the Grangers.

"What was that all about, Harry?" Richard asked.

"I just needed to get some money out for the trip."

"Oh," Richard replied. "How much?" His wife suddenly elbowed him sharply in the side. "Ow! I mean…nevermind that question."

"What did the goblins have to say, Harry?" Hermione asked, changing the subject away from her father's lack of tact. "You were in there longer than I would think it takes for a withdrawal."

"Oh, I just had them convert the galleons to muggle money. And they gave me a magical wallet that will only open for me. So don't even think about trying anything, Sirius." He glared pointedly at his godfather before smiling.

"Why do you think I would ever do anything like steal from my own godson?" Sirius asked innocently.

"Because I've seen and heard of you doing far worse," Harry explained. "I wouldn't put it past you."

"You wound me, Harry!" Sirius complained as he clutched his chest. Harry only shook his head as the group took off once more.

The group continued to walk until they saw the curving terminal narrow to a much smaller, but still relatively wide, opening. As they neared, they could see crowds milling about on the other side of the opening, as well as various signs of muggle activity.

"I would assume that the rest of the airport is just through there," Ellen commented.

"Right," Remus answered. "We just walk through. It's like walking through the barrier at Platform 9 ¾. Just turn around once you go through. You'll see what I mean."

The eclectic group of magical tourists passed through the opening and into the muggle portion of Heathrow Airport. After they did so, they turned around to see that, instead of being able to see into the magical reception area, they saw a large billboard for Rolex watches.

"Clever," Richard commented. "But what's to stop us from looking like we just appeared out of nowhere?"

"I'm assuming there is some kind of muggle-repelling charm," Minerva speculated. "Or perhaps some form of the confundus charm." Seeing the confused looks on Richard and Ellen's faces, she elaborated. "I would assume that, if you were not already aware of the entrance to the magical area of the airport, you would simply mistake this for a traditional advertisement, and pay it no attention. If you are not paying attention, then you would not notice strangers appearing out of thin air."

"Makes sense," Richard replied, realizing too that the great glass wall inside the magical area must be one-way as well, to prevent the magical world from being seen. "But I think we're going to be running short on time here soon. Should we go and get our tickets and check in?"

* * *

><p>July 24, 2011<p>

5:27 AM

Richard returned from the ticketing machine, having electronically checked in to their flight. He had then checked in their luggage, leaving only a handful of small bags such as purses and, of course, Harry's computer bag. Richard passed out the boarding passes, which had been labeled with each person's name. Due to the fact that they were now traveling in the muggle world, their names no longer mattered. The fact that muggle and magical security was segregated only helped matters in this case.

"Now, according to this, our flight is going to begin boarding at about 6:35," Richard explained. "So we've got just over an hour to get through security and find our terminal and gate. We are flying out of Terminal Five, so we're already there, since this is where British Airways is based. We just need to pass through security find Gate F and we'll be all set."

Fifteen minutes later found the seven through security and sitting at Gate F. Due to the fact that it was still early in the morning, the wait at the security station was light, and they had no trouble getting through quickly.

"So," Richard began, once again taking charge of the operation, "we all know where we need to be and when, so I think I'm gonna go get some breakfast."

"I saw a couple of places on the way," Ellen reminded him. "There was one…I think it was called The 5 Tuns, that looked pretty good, at least what I saw when we passed by. Actually, now that I think about it, I almost think we've been there before. Maybe one of the other times we flew outta here? Anyway, we could try there for breakfast."

"Sounds good," Richard replied. "So, everyone coming?"

He took off back toward the security checkpoint, trying to find where the restaurant Ellen mentioned was. Even though he couldn't remember its location, he didn't want to seem as though he hadn't been paying attention. As they walked, they passed the terminal's Starbucks location.

Hermione, who had been lagging behind for the past few minutes, perked up as she caught a whiff of the coffee coming from inside.

"Come on, Harry!" she exclaimed, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him toward the coffee shop. "We'll just go in here," she announced to the rest of the group as they continued on their way to breakfast. Her declaration was met with shrugs as the pair split off from the rest.

Once they were inside Starbucks, Harry turned to Hermione. "What're we doing in here? I thought we were going to go get breakfast with the rest of them. I'm starved!"

"Oh, I doubt that very much, Harry. Besides, they sell food here too. I just had a craving for coffee, since I didn't get my fix this morning, remember?"

"Yeah," he replied as he eyed the long line. Apparently, Hermione wasn't the only one who had had that idea. Due to the fact that it was early morning and the airport was full of travelers, the Starbucks line stretched out of the shop itself and down the concourse. "Are you sure you want to wait that long?" he asked.

"Trust me, Harry," she replied easily as she moved to join the line. "You have to try this. Once you take one, you'll be hooked."

"Take one?" he questioned as he joined her. "Are you sure this isn't something illegal?" he joked. "It sounds like you're talking about some illegal drug or something. Don't you mean 'have one?'"

She waved him off. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. But my point still stands."

Harry gave her a skeptical look for a moment, but finally gave in. "Alright, I'm gonna trust you on this. I've never been one for fancy coffee. Just give it to me plain and I'm happy."

"Then obviously you've lived a deprived life, Harry," Hermione goaded lightly. "This is how I make it through the summer, especially the mornings."

This astonished Harry. "How is that possible? You're always so chipper in the mornings at…" he looked around, "_school_. Too chipper even, especially for that bloody early in the morning. How is summer any different?"

She shrugged in response as they shuffled forward with the line, inching their way closer to the counter. "I just get on a different schedule during the summer. I end up going to bed later and getting up later…or earlier if I have access to one of these," she motioned toward the Starbucks sign.

"I guess I can sympathize," Harry replied. "I get into a different schedule too during the summers. Uncle Vernon always wants me to get up early to get the housework and chores done, so I guess I just get used to it as the summer goes on."

As he finished speaking, the person in front of them reached the counter and began to place his order.

"So what are we getting?" Harry asked. "I have no idea what any of this stuff is. Most of it doesn't even sound like coffee."

"Well, I've never been really adventurous," Hermione began.

"Could've fooled me," Harry muttered.

"But," she continued as she rolled her eyes, "I usually just get a mocha. Minus whip, of course, since it cools the coffee down much too quickly."

She finished speaking just as their turn to order arrived. Harry stepped up to the counter and looked at the menu quizzically. A moment later, his gaze shifted down to the pimply-faced teenager behind the counter.

"Can we get…two mochas minus whip?" Harry asked.

"How big?" the clerk asked in a nasally voice, taking Harry by surprise.

"Grande," Hermione replied for him.

The clerk smirked slightly, but Hermione didn't notice as he continued to input their order into the computer.

"Oh! And get one of those breakfast sandwiches," Hermione chirped. "The one with bacon, egg, and gouda on the ciabatta roll."

"To share? Or…" Harry trailed off uncomfortably. "Make that two then," he added to the cashier.

With another inconspicuous smirk from the employee, Harry paid and he and Hermione turned to leave, but as they did so, they were stopped.

"Did you want me to put your name on this or your girlfriend's?" the clerk asked Harry.

Harry froze, but did not turn around. "You can just put Harry on it," he replied awkwardly as he and Hermione made brief eye contact. He continued walking to the side of the shop and stood against the wall waiting, not making further eye contact with Hermione.

They stood in silence for a few minutes before Harry's name was called. He and Hermione approached the counter and picked up their cups, as well as a small paper bag for each containing their sandwich. With their purchases in hand, the two made their way to a small, empty table just outside the restaurant proper, and sat down. As they did so, Harry decided that the silence and awkwardness was unwarranted, and that he needed to break the ice.

"So what can I expect from the flight?" he asked. "I've never flown before…well, that's not true actually, but I don't need to remind you about that. I've just never flown on a plane before."

Hermione paused as she lifted her sandwich to her mouth. "Well, there's this big metal tube with wings-"

"Har-har," Harry said sarcastically. "That's not what I meant and you know it." He took a bite from his sandwich as he finished speaking, followed by a drink after swallowing. "This actually isn't half bad," he added. "I taste the chocolate more than the coffee."

"Told you you'd like it," she replied after a drink of her own. "But to answer your question, you have to wear safety belts. Why they don't require those on brooms is beyond me," she muttered the last part under her breath. "I don't know for certain what kind of plane we'll be on this time, so I can't tell you what it'll be like inside. But you will be able to get up to use the lavatory, walk around a bit, and even sit back down."

"Really?" Harry asked with mock astonishment. "I'll be able to sit back down? Well bugger me!"

Hermione snorted at his joke just as he took a drink. Eyes wide with panic, she covered her face and grabbed a napkin to blot her nose. Harry saw this and broke out in laughter.

"Did you just snort coffee?" he asked between laughs. Hermione's red face told him all he needed to know. However, after regaining his wits, he raised his hand diplomatically. "Don't worry though, your secret's safe with me. Until we get back to Hogwarts, that is."

Hermione glared at him and threw her crumpled napkin at him, hitting him softly in the shoulder.

"And you throw like a girl too," he continued.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well of course I do. I am a _girl_ after all. I'd hope you would've noticed that by now."

Harry's head jerked up from his straw, spraying droplets of coffee on the table. Hermione giggled at his lack of coordination. "Trust me, I've noticed," Harry replied quietly as he wiped his face. Hermione, for her part, grabbed another napkin and wiped down the table, cleaning up the remainder of his mess.

"Now we're even," she joked as she set the napkin aside and finished her sandwich. Harry had finished his moments before, but he was still surprised at the speed with which Hermione had eaten hers.

"You really inhaled that thing," he observed.

Hermione snorted once more, this time, however, without coffee to accompany it. "That's such a pleasant image to have," she said.

"Glad I could be of assistance," Harry replied chivalrously as he began to clear the table, picking up the used napkins and putting them into one of the empty paper bags. He grabbed his cup, which was still mostly full of coffee, and went to throw away the trash. He then returned to Hermione and stood beside her as she grabbed her cup and rose. Harry reached out and grabbed her arm, helping her to her feet. "Milady," he said with a smirk.

"Oh, great sir knight," Hermione swooned in an exaggerated fashion, "thank you for thou…okay, that's enough of that," he announced suddenly, laughing. "I can't believe anybody would ever talk that way.

"I thought it was kinda fun," Harry moped. "Gave me a chance to be a gentleman. If we had kept it up, I could have even opened a door for you."

"Oh, Harry, come off it," she replied. "You don't need to talk weird to be a gentleman. I happen to know you already are, and will make someone very happy someday."

Harry looked Hermione curiously, pondering the meaning of her statement. He assumed it could be innocent enough, and he was sure that Sirius would say that it was, but the irrational and teenage part of him couldn't help but read more into her statement. Harry wasn't sure whether he wanted there to be a deeper, hidden meaning or not, but he couldn't get his mind off of the possibility.

"What?" Hermione asked, startling Harry out of his thoughts. He looked at her to find her staring at him, perplexed. "What're you thinking about?"

He racked his mind for an excuse, however he didn't find one that would work. So he relied on his old standby. "Just thinking," he replied pathetically. Hermione must have picked up on the weakness of his excuse, because she did not press any further. Instead, the two of them began to walk back to their gate, both of Harry's hands full with his cup and computer bag.

They continued to walk to gate F until, a few moments after they had left Starbucks, Hermione stuck her arm out to stop Harry.

"Look!" she exclaimed, pointing ahead.

Harry's eyes tracked Hermione's gesture to one of the many shops that lined the walls. Through the smattering of travelers milling about the concourse, Harry could see a small airport bookshop. Tugging at his arm, Hermione pulled Harry toward the store excitedly.

"Oh, Merlin," Harry muttered as he follows his friend.

Whereas Harry only saw a small shop filled mainly with magazines and paperback books, Hermione found herself in heaven. Releasing Harry's arm, her eyes darted around the shop for something, anything, that she had not yet read.

"Why don't you go look in the back," she suggested oddly, nodding toward the back corner of the shop, "I'm sure they have something more interesting to you back there."

Harry looked at her curiously but took her advice as she turned her attention back to the books, sticking close to the fiction section.

As Hermione continued to browse, occasionally picking up various books to examine them closer, Harry walked through the small nonfiction section on the opposite side of the store, not wanting to get between Hermione and a book. While the store seemed deceptively small, only about ten meters square, it contained an impressive amount of product. In fact, in the back corner of the shop, Harry found a small bin full of various movies and other videos, all at reduced prices. Looking behind him to see Hermione engrossed by yet another book, this time in the nonfiction section, Harry began to search through the bin, hoping to find something more interesting than books. He had just found one that looked somewhat interesting when he was interrupted by a tap on his shoulder. He turned around to find Hermione standing behind him, a pair of books in her free hand.

"Whatcha got?" Harry asked.

"Oh, I found a book on casino games," Hermione explained. "But I don't know how good it will be, since it was the only one I could find. If they had other books, I could compare them to find out which is the best, but-"

"Hermione, this is an airport book store. They can't have twenty of every kind of book known to man."

"I suppose that's true. But look! I found a book that you might like." She held up the other book she was carrying. "I remember reading it when I was younger. It's called _Patriot Games_," she said as Harry examined the cover, "and if I remember correctly, it's pretty good."

Harry chortled lightly at the book.

"What's so funny?" she asked curiously, looking at the cover again herself to see what was so amusing.

"Nothing," Harry replied. "But I just find it really convenient that, of all the films that a book store should carry, that's it."

"Huh?"

Harry held up the box he had been looking at before Hermione had approached him. "This. It's the movie version of that book, or at least that's what it looks like," he explained.

Hermione looked at the box closely. Sure enough, it was the film version of _Patriot Games_.

"Really? They made a movie?" she asked. "I only remember the book. Here, lemme see." She took the box from Harry and flipped it over to examine the back. "Ah, that's why," she said after a moment. It came out in 1992. That means this movie is older than we are. No wonder I haven't seen it." She handed the box back to Harry.

"Well, I can think of one very good reason why I haven't seen it," he replied. "And it starts with 'Durs,' and ends with 'leys.' Can you guess what it is?'

"No," she answered snarkily. "But more seriously, I think it would be interesting for you to see what the differences are. I haven't bothered to see any movie adaptations of books, since the books are always better, but from what I hear, movies are always different from the books."

"Or I could just get the movie and not read the book at all," Harry argued with a smile. "It would really cut down on the work."

"Or we could do both," Hermione retorted, putting her hands on her hip in a traditional Hermione pose, with her head tilted and brow slightly furrowed.

Harry studied her for a moment with his head cocked to the side. _I never noticed how cute that little pouting pose really looks_, he thought. Suddenly, his eyes widened as he shook his head to get that thought out of his mind. _Where did that come from? It must be Sirius's innuendos. That's it. It's always Sirius's fault._

"Or we could _buy_both," Harry replied finally, trying to hide the blush that threatened to creep onto his face. He subtly emphasized the word 'buy,' so that he could have an excuse if he never read the book. He did say that he would buy the book, he never said that he would read it.

"Great!" she said. "Are you ready to go now then? I don't want you to get a chance to change your mind."

"Who are you and what have you done to Hermione?" Harry balked. "The Hermione I know would never willingly leave a bookstore without being dragged out kicking and screaming. Believe me, I know. I've had to do the dragging before."

Hermione slapped him playfully in response.

"Hey!" he cried. "What's with all of the abuse lately? I don't remember saying that Harry should be hit all the time! I think I want out of this abusive relationship!"

Hermione giggled as they reached the counter, and she placed her book on the counter and began to search through her pocket. Harry stepped up beside her and placed his purchases on the counter next to hers as he nudged her out of the way.

"I got this," he said as he pulled out his new wallet.

"No, you got Starbucks. I can pay for my own, Harry."

"I'm sure you can" he replied. "But I need to pay my way on this trip somehow, and trailing behind you paying for everything seems like a good start."

"Prat," she said and stuck out her tongue.

"But you love me anyway."

"No comment," she responded jokingly. "But let me pay. I want this book, so I'll pay." She attempted to give a note to the cashier, who was watching impatiently as the two bickered. Harry put out his arm to block her, stretching it across her chest to keep her from reaching. With his other hand, he handed a note to the cashier. Since it was the first bill in reach, he took it, and gave Harry his change and the purchases in a bag. Harry took it and withdrew his arm from Hermione.

"I'll get you back for that," she huffed.

"I'm sure you will. And I'll be quivering in fear for the rest of my life waiting for it."

"Oi, just you wait, Potter," she growled lightly, eliciting a raised eyebrow from the cashier as they walked away. However, Harry did not see it. "You will be quaking. Just you wait and see. You'll never know where or when I'll strike. Just remember, I'll know where you'll be for the next week. I know where you live. I know where you sleep."

"And yet you haven't taken advantage of that yet. Amazing."

She threw her hands up in the air in an exaggerated show of exasperation. "Gah! How do you keep coming up with these comebacks?"

Harry shrugged. "Remember, I live with Sirius, I talk with him a lot too. So I've learned from the best. Also, bear in mind that for most of the year, I live with a bunch of teenage boys, with their arguing and putdowns. So I've had to adapt."

"Adapt? You make it sound so clinical," she said as they continued to walk toward their gate.

"Well, it was either that or tell you how I've learned that our housemates can be a bunch of sodding wankers who like to go on about who they've snogged and when, or worse. So I've had to come up with some good insults to deal with it."

"That's not really something to brag about, Harry. Do you really want to be known as the person who is the best with insults?"

"Hey!" he said, throwing his arms up in his defense. "I never said I was the best. Just that I've gotten better at it. You think I'm good? You need to bicker with Seamus. He's got me beat hands down. Dean's pretty good too."

Hermione shook her head. "I'll take your word for it. Besides, I'd much rather bicker with you anyway," she added, batting her eyes obviously.

"Are you flirting Hermione?" Harry asked in a playful tone. "Because if you are, you could use some work in making it less obvious. See, girls are supposed to be mysterious and subtle. They're never supposed to make their intentions clear. Batting your eyes like that was a bit…obvious."

Hermione snapped her fingers in dismay. "Oh, bother," she said, causing Harry to chuckle. "And here I was trying to be Miss Mysterious and be alluring. Guess it didn't work, huh?"

Harry didn't make eye contact. "Well, I didn't say it didn't work," he replied. "Only that it could use some work. But hey, what can't use some work, eh?" he added nervously.

"Er, yeah," Hermione responded skeptically. But her skepticism was short-lived, as she spotted yet another shop, this time a small electronic goods store that seemed to sell various travel-related products and accessories. "Harry, that reminds me," she said. "If you're gonna take your computer to the States, you'll need an adapter."

"Huh?" he asked.

"The power outlets in America are different than we have here. You'll be able to charge your computer here, but without an adapter, you'll only be able to use it until the battery dies. We need to get one, and I'm sure they'll have one," she added, gesturing toward the small shop.

"Computer illiterate, remember?" Harry asked as he pointed to himself. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, honestly Harry!" Hermione complained, as she once again dragged him into a shop.

A few minutes later, the pair exited, with yet another small bag to add to their collection of books, a movie, and their still present coffee.

"There, now you'll be thanking me once we get there," Hermione explained proudly.

"Sure, sure, whatever," Harry responded as they rounded the last corner to their gate. As they arrived, they found the others sitting and waiting for them.

"Harry! Hermione!" Sirius yelled, waving at them despite being only about ten meters away.

The pair rolled their eyes as they continued to approach.

"You two were gone a while," Sirius observed caustically. "I hope you didn't get into any _trouble_."

"Sirius!" Harry barked angrily, glancing at Richard and Ellen nervously.

"What cub?" Sirius asked innocently. "I was just expressing my sincere desire that you two were safe and didn't get into any trouble. That's all."

"I'm sure," Harry growled as he sat down next to Ellen with Hermione on his other side.

* * *

><p>July 24, 2011<p>

6:27 AM

"So now you just choose the password you want," Ellen explained as she pointed at the screen of Harry's computer, which was perched atop his lap. With Hermione on one side and Ellen on the other, Harry had spent the time since he and Hermione had returned to the gate setting up his computer, with help from the two female Grangers.

"How about-"

"Harry, no!" Hermione interrupted. "You don't tell someone your password, that defeats the whole point. Think of it this way: would you tell the Slytherins the password to Gryffindor Tower if they were the ones who asked you to set the new one?"

"No," he replied sheepishly. He looked back down at the keyboard and began to hunt for and type various letters to form his password. "Done," he announced after a moment.

"Now click continue or press 'Enter,'" Ellen instructed as she shot a scathing look at her daughter for telling Harry off. While her tone had not been overtly hostile, and despite the fact that Ellen knew that she was simply looking out for Harry, there could have been a better way to handle the situation.

"Sorry Harry," Hermione apologized after seeing her mother's glare. "I guess I just have the expectation that everyone should know as much about computers as I do. Sorry if I made you feel like dirt."

"It's okay," he replied quietly. "At least I know what dirt feels like now. Now I won't take it for granted quite as much."

"Harry!" Sirius called from across the narrow pathway between seats. "Stop wallowing about. Nobody likes a pity party. Unless there's alcohol of course."

As Harry's screen finally showed his desktop for the first time, his lesson in modern computing was interrupted by a voice over the overhead intercom system.

"Greetings passengers of British Airways flight 2387 to Las Vegas, Nevada. We'd like to begin boarding beginning with first class. We are now accepting passengers flying in first class for boarding and will continue with Club World. Once again, we are now boarding all first class passengers for flight 2387 from London to Las Vegas, Nevada."

"Well, that's our cue," Richard announced, rising from his seat and stretching.

"But I thought we were Club World?" Harry asked.

"We are. But it won't take long to board the firsties," Richard replied. "So we might as well get in line now." He turned to the rest of the group. "Make sure you have your boarding passes ready, since they'll check them as we board."

"Once we're on board, though, it doesn't matter where we sit, as long as we stay in the same seats we bought," Ellen said. "So you can sit with whoever you want. Personally, I can tell you that I'll be sitting with Richard, so that seat is taken."

Harry closed his computer, unplugged it, and packed it all away in his case along with the power adapter he had bought. Zipping it up, he stood.

"I doubt it's fully charged, Harry," Ellen observed. "But I'm sure they'll have outlets on the plane so you can charge it. They won't have Internet access though, since it interferes with the plane itself."

"Doesn't matter," Harry replied, shrugging. "I wouldn't know what to do with it yet anyway. I'll just want 'till we get to Vegas."

Richard and the others, with the exception of Hermione, were already in line, waiting a respectable distance behind the few remaining first class passengers. Harry stepped into line behind Minerva, with Hermione behind him. Ellen stepped next to her husband to wait.

"Have you ever been on a plane before, Minerva?" he asked, trying to make small talk. He couldn't remember talking to his Transfiguration professor that day.

She turned slightly, sporting a contemplative look on her face. After a moment, she replied. "Maybe, Harry. I can't remember. Certainly not in recent memory, but I do have a vague memory of traveling on a muggle plane when I was quite young. My father was a muggle, you know, and if I recall, we used to travel quite regularly."

Harry looked surprised at her revelation. "I didn't know you were a…I didn't know your father was a muggle," he corrected hastily, trying to avoid the term 'halfblood.'

"It's not something I talk about often, Harry. But I figured that it would be appropriate to mention in this case, since we are venturing into the muggle world. Now-"

"Greetings passengers of British Airways flight 2387 to Las Vegas, Nevada," the announcer began once more. "We are now pleased to welcome all Club World passengers to board the aircraft. We will begin boarding from the back of the plane, so please present your boarding passes for verification. Once again, we would like to invite all Club World passengers to begin boarding at this time, beginning at the back of the aircraft. Thank you."

The line began to move once more, and Harry picked up his bag from the floor, where he had put it while talking with Minerva, and slowly moved forward with the rest of the passengers. Of their group, Richard and Ellen boarded first, followed by Sirius, Remus, and finally Minerva. As they left the terminal and entered the jetway, Harry stepped forward and handed his boarding pass to the airline employee.

The attendant at the counter examined Harry's boarding briefly before scanning it and setting it off to the side.

"Have a good flight, sir," she said respectively and looked beyond Harry to Hermione. Taking this as his cue, Harry stepped forward and into the jetway that he had seen the others enter.

A wave of cold air suddenly hit Harry as he stepped into the jetway, and the sound of jet engines filled his ears as he walked down the long metal corridor. He unconsciously felt himself walking faster than normal as the downward slope of the walkway added to his momentum. As he walked he heard footsteps behind him, and turned to see Hermione coming down the jetway a few meters behind.

Just as she caught up with him, Harry turned the slight corner at the end of the jetway and was greeted by the fuselage of the plane, along with its open door. Looking through the slight crack between the plane and the jetway, Harry stepped over the threshold and into the plane itself, only to find himself waiting in another line.

"Just brilliant," Hermione complained from behind Harry. "I always hate how we go down the long, empty jetway just to run into a bunch of people just inside the door of the plane. How hard can it be to find your seat? It doesn't take that long to look at a number and find a spot for your bag!" While she was irritated, she was purposefully keeping her voice down so as not to incite the other passengers.

Harry decided not to push Hermione's temper any further, so he looked at his boarding pass and changed the subject. "Where are you supposed to sit?" he asked.

"11F," she replied, glancing at her boarding pass.

Minerva, standing in front of Harry, turned at Hermione's voice. "That's a coincidence, Hermione, since I was given 11E. Harry?"

"12D," he grumbled. He peered down the line of passengers to see the seating arrangement. There appeared to be two seats on each side of the plane, facing in opposite directions with privacy screens separating them. Along the center of the plane, there was a row four seats wide. The center two seats looked to be side by side, with an opposite-facing seat on either side. While the two center seats were not separated, the extra seats on the side were separated from the other two by privacy screens. "Looks like I'll be in one of those side seats with people I don't know," he complained.

Minerva, sensing his disappointment, made a snap decision. "Take my seat, Harry," she offered. "I couldn't care less where I sit, so long as I get to the end of the flight in once piece."

Harry looked unsure of her offer. "Are you sure?" he asked. "I don't want to take your seat away from you. What makes me more deserving than you?"

She gave Harry a patronizing smile, but did not humor his question. "Just do an old woman a favor and take my seat, Harry. I could do with a bit of time alone, especially after spending a year with a school full of children."

Harry looked at her skeptically, not quite buying her reasoning. But he nodded just as the queue began to move forward, allowing Harry and Hermione to get to their seats, which were near the front area of the Club World section.

They walked around the front of the seats and inside what seemed like a small, separate room, complete with walls on either side except the front. There was ample storage space and room for the seats to recline and lengthen to form beds. Harry tucked his computer case under the seat as he and Hermione sat down and fastened their safety belts.

"Better to do it now and get it over with than wait," Hermione rationalized. "Besides, gives us something to do now instead of sitting here waiting."

Harry gave her a questioning look. "Something to do? It took all of half a second."

Hermione nodded in agreement. "True, but now you can't say you haven't accomplished something on the plane so far."

"I'll just chock it up under my list of accomplishments. Let's see here..." he lowered his voice, "defeating a grown mountain troll at age eleven? Check. Killing an evil dark lord? Check twice if you include the situation with the Stone. Killing a massive ancient mythical snake? Check. Time travel? Check. Becoming the youngest Triwizard champion ever? Check."

"I get the picture, Harry. Remember, I was there for most of those."

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that," he replied, feigning seriousness.

"What? Do you think you managed to stay alive all on your own?"

"Well, I kinda gave Ron all the credit," Harry admitted. "I mean, he did sacrifice himself during the chess game."

"Pfft," she hissed in response. "He was just fine. I almost think he was acting or faking being injured. I mean, how bad can it be to fall five feet from a giant fake horse?"

"I never asked. I just always assumed it was worse than when you risked your life when the basilisk was roaming around the school and ended up petrified."

"Oh, naturally that wasn't as bad," she retorted with a snort.

"You know I'm just joking, right?" Harry asked uncertainly, wanting to make that perfectly clear.

She shook her head, her eyes wide. "No. You were joking?" she asked incredulously.

"Well, yeah. I didn't mean to downplay anything you-"

"Harry."

"Yes?"

"I was joking too."

"Oh."

"Oh? Is that all you have to say? You're not gonna sling some curses at me or anything for having you on?"

"No. Why would I do that? You know I'd never curse at you. Sirius, yes. Ron, maybe, but only in fun. But you, never."

Hermione faked a swoon. "Oh, Harry, that's so sweet," she said.

"I try my best," he replied smartly as he brushed an invisible piece of lint from his sleeve. As he did so, Hermione let out a long yawn, quickly throwing her hand in front of her mouth to cover it. "I didn't realize I was that boring," Harry said with a chuckle.

"You know full well that it's too bloody early in the morning, and my caffeine isn't having its usual effect."

"Maybe you've become tolerant. You'll have to increase the dosage next time," he joked.

Hermione opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off as the plane began to back away from the terminal.

"Ladies and gentlemen, British Airways would like to welcome you to flight 2387 to Las Vegas, Nevada by way of New York City, New York. We will be getting underway shortly, but first we must go over a few safety features of our Boeing 777 aircraft."

Harry listened with rapt attention as the steward covered the various emergency exits as well as other safety features and emergency procedures. He even paid attention when they covered how to fasten the safety belts, despite the fact that his was already fastened. Hermione, for her part, seemed to be tuning out the speech, which surprised Harry, who had never seen her ignore a lecture of any kind.

As the steward finished speaking and sat down, the plane shifted direction and began to move forward. Harry peered to the side to try and get a look out the window, but all he could see were brief glimpses of tarmac and grass. Needless to say, he was disappointed.

"It's not worth looking out the window at this point," Hermione offered, watching Harry. "There's nothing to see."

"But I wanna," Harry pouted, crossing his arms.

"Maybe on the way back, if you're good," Hermione responded in an authoritative tone. "Maybe I'll let you sit by the window if you behave yourself."

"Okay, Mione," he said in a childish voice.

"But if you call me 'Mione' again, I won't let you sit there."

"Why?" Harry asked, his voice normal once more. He looked at Hermione curiously, awaiting her answer.

"Because my name is Hermione, not 'Mione.' Although, I do like that nickname better than any of the others, I don't really think it's appropriate."

As Harry pondered why that name might not be appropriate, rather than the fact that Hermione may simply not like it, his thoughts were interrupted by another announcement.

"Flight attendants prepare for departure," a gravelly voice announced over the plane's speaker system.

"Here's the best part," Hermione told Harry as she gripped her armrests.

Suddenly, the plane lurched forward, accelerating quickly along the runway. As the plane rocketed toward take off, Harry was flung forward in his seat, due to the fact that his seat faced the rear of the plane. Despite the fact that he was straining against his safety belt, Harry had a huge smile plastered on his face. He glanced over Hermione as the plane nosed up, and saw a grin on her face as well. Why she had never enjoyed flying on a broomstick no longer made sense to him.

As the plane leveled out in the air, Harry sat back in his seat once more.

"You may now turn on and use any portable electronic devices," the steward announced. "The captain has also turned off the 'fasten seatbelt' sign, so you may feel free to move about the cabin. Our estimated time of arrival in Las Vegas is 2:55 PM Pacific Standard Time, with an expected flight time of just under sixteen hours."

Harry unbuckled his safety belt and slouched slightly in his seat to get comfortable. Hermione, for her part, rummaged around in her bag and pulled out the book on casino games that Harry had bought in the airport. She then lifted the armrest between herself and Harry and tucked her legs under herself and began to read. Harry looked around the cabin to see others doing the same thing. With a sidelong glance to Hermione, Harry subtly reached under his seat and pulled out the copy of _Patriot Games_ that Hermione had suggested he buy. Trying not to get her attention, Harry opened it and began to read.

Two hours later, after the flight staff had made a pass to check on all of the passengers, Harry closed his book and stretched, earning a satisfying pop from his sternum. He tucked the book back under the seat and slouched off to his side and closed his eyes. That morning, he had woken up earlier than he usually ever did, even when living with the Dursleys, so he was naturally exhausted.

As soon as he had closed his eyes, he heard a rustling from beside him, followed by a long, loud yawn. Ignoring it, Harry attempted to fall asleep, only to be startled by something landing on his shoulder. He cracked open a single eye to see a mass of bushy hair perched atop his shoulder. The body that was attached to the hair was snuggled up against his side as well, trying to fall asleep.

With a contented sigh and smile, Harry laid his head on Hermione's and closed his eye once more before drifting off into a peaceful, comfortable sleep.

End of Chapter 6

A/N: Well, that was a fun chapter for me to write, I can tell you that much. I wanted the entire purpose of this chapter to be to pull Harry and Hermione out of the magical world and into someplace new for Harry. As a result, he may have to rely on Hermione much more from here on out. That said, there are a few hidden points in this chapter that may not be immediately obvious at first glance, but give hints as to the future of this story and the series in general. But that aside, there are a few other points that I wanted to discuss about this chapter:

The first is pretty minor, so I'll deal with it first. I didn't give any specs for the computer Harry received for a few reasons: in order to keep the story somewhat timely in the future, and in order to not bog the story down in too much useless detail. I put this explanation in because I could just imagine someone out there asking what the specs were. But aside from that, Harry receiving a computer will play a small role in this story, and a much larger one in the next installment in this series.

In addition, I could not find concrete information as to whether British Airways flights include power outlets. While I researched this chapter extensively, going so far as to use the BA web site to plan a flight from London to Vegas, and analyzing Heathrow maps, I could not find adequate evidence to support the assertion that there were outlets on the planes. As a result, I included them in this story. They may be fictitious, or they may not be. But for the purposes of this story, they exist.

Another thing to mention is the short time-frame of this story. When reading it, bear in mind that it takes place, for the most part, over the course of about a week (at least from here on out). So don't expect a fast resolution to the Harry/Hermione relationship. The relationship will progress slowly, but it would not be realistic to expect their behavior toward each other to change overnight. As a result, the awkwardness we see in this chapter will persist, although it will gradually decrease throughout the course of the story. Bear in mind that this awkwardness is new to the pair, as they consider things they've never really considered before. That is the approach I'm taking with this.

Now, onto the last bit of this note:

**Chapter Title Hint:** This one should be pretty easy. The next chapter revolves around their arrival in Las Vegas, so it should be quite easy to find a Queen song that deals with that topic. I don't really even need to give a hint for this one, honestly.

So anyway, thank you very much to all of you who have read the story so far, and I hope you continue to enjoy it. If you do, please let me know in a review. Also, if there's something that you'd like me to address in a future author's note, or explain in greater detail, please let me know. I'll see you soon with chapter 7.


	7. Now I'm Here

Author's Note: I guess I should apologize for the hint I provided at the end of the last chapter. I really should have emphasized the part about "arrival" rather than "Las Vegas," and for that, I apologize. Everyone gave really good guesses, and for the most part, all of those names will be used in this story. However, the songs proposed by some reviewers fit much better with some of the later chapters.

Chapter 7

**Now I'm Here**

_July 24, 2011_

_3 PM PST_

Harry Potter stretched languidly as he stood from his seat next to Hermione onboard a Boeing 777 plane. After nearly sixteen hours of flight with only a brief stop in New York City to refuel, he had been sitting for a long time. As he reached under his seat to retrieve his bag, Hermione rose from her seat as well and collected her belongings.

The light from the mid-afternoon Las Vegas sun shone through the windows of the plane as passengers began to disembark the plane, only to be greeted by the desert heat. Harry and Hermione, for their part, waited until most of the other passengers had left the plane before leaving their enclosed seats. As they did so, they were greeted by the other members of their party, Richard and Ellen Granger, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Minerva McGonagall, all of whom looked much more tired than they had in London.

"So we're here," Richard said, stating the obvious.

"Yep," Sirius replied, looking through the door of the plane and into the jetway.

The group exited the plane and was immediately greeted by a blast of hot air as the Las Vegas sun roasted the metal walkway.

"Wasn't expecting that," Sirius admitted, shocked at the heat.

"And what, pray tell, were you expecting, Mr. Black?" Minerva asked sarcastically. "What part of traveling to a desert made you think that we would be cold and uncomfortable?"

"I _am_ uncomfortable," Sirius whined. "And nobody ever told me this place was in a desert. Whenever I think of Las Vegas, I think of nice, cool casinos filled with magical, almost erotic noises."

"What kind of twisted world do you live in?" Harry asked. "'Erotic noises?' If that's what you think of when you think about casinos, I'd hate to think of what comes to mind when you hear the term 'gentleman's club.'"

"Where'd you learn that term, Harry?" Sirius asked pointedly, ignoring Harry's inquiry.

"I live with a group of teenage boys most of the year, remember, Sirius?"

"Good point. But you don't need to be thinking about things like that, especially at your age." He looked over at Richard, who was nodding absently in agreement.

The seven exited the jetway and were immediately greeted by an open, circular gate, with a collection of slot machines in the center.

"We must be in Las Vegas," Ellen muttered. "Nowhere else on Earth would you see slot machines in an airport."

"Well, you've got to admit that they've got a theme and they take it as far as possible," Remus commented. "Gotta give 'em credit for that."

"Credit?" Ellen balked. "They don't call this city Sin City for nothing, and this is just proof of it. They want to milk you for everything you're worth from the moment you step off of the plane until the moment you board again."

Remus shrugged, not willing to take the argument any further.

Richard glanced at the clock on the wall to confirm the time. "We'd better get going," he said. "It's getting late, and we still need to get our luggage and get to the hotel to check in. Looks like baggage claim is…" he looked around for a sign, "downstairs. Follow me!" He pointed ahead and charged forward.

"He's got entirely too much energy for being up this long, and for his age," Hermione remarked.

"His age?" Harry asked as they followed her father. "He can't be that old, can he? I mean, he doesn't look much older than forty."

"Spot on, Harry," Ellen interrupted. "But don't let him know that I told you how old he is. He seems to have this belief that he looks younger than he is. We try not to ruin that fantasy."

"I'll keep that in mind," Harry replied.

"You do that, Harry, and you'll do just fine in this family."

Harry looked at her curiously, trying to decipher her statement. Was she trying to say something more? Or was she simply referring to how well he would do on the holiday with the family? Harry couldn't be sure, but he would try to find out during the course of the trip.

Richard pointed out that, according to some directional signs, in order to collect their luggage and exit the airport, they would need to take a short ride on an underground train.

"Looks like it's like the London tube," he said as they waited next to the tracks.

"Well, the only train I've ever been on is the one to and from Hogwarts," Sirius revealed. "So it'll be a new experience for me. Does it go any faster?"

Richard shrugged. "Couldn't tell you. The tube trains are completely different from surface trains, and may go faster, depending on the situation. But in this case, I doubt it."

"Damn," Sirius cursed. "And here I thought I would get my jollies for the day."

"I know for a fact that these good people don't want to see you get your jollies, Padfoot," Remus goaded as they boarded the car.

"Shut it, Moony, or I'll tell everyone about that time with Sarah Washburn where you-"

"One more word…" Remus growled dangerously, causing Sirius to break out in laughter.

"Is there something we need to know, Remus?" Harry pressed with a smile.

"Don't pay this old bag any attention, Harry," Remus replied. "He's just talking outta his arse."

Harry gripped the vertical rail he was holding tightly as the car shuddered slightly as it moved. He jerked slightly as the train moved, but it was only temporary, because a moment later, the tram arrived at its destination on the other side of the airport. They exited the train and followed the signs as they began to climb toward the surface.

Eventually, the wide underground walkway leveled out and opened into an expansive, brightly lit room with high ceilings. The room was full of luggage carousels but, more importantly, it was also full of a large assortment of slot machines.

"And there're slot machines to play while you wait for your luggage too," Ellen complained.

"You'll have to get used to it, dear," Minerva said. "From what I gather, it'll only get worse from here. Just wait until we go into a casino."

While the others waited for the luggage to emerge from the chute onto the carousel, Richard, Harry, and Sirius visited the currency exchange counter in the corner of the room. After Richard and Sirius had converted their British Pounds to dollars, Harry took his turn, deciding to convert all of the money he had brought. What he was handed back shocked him.

"15,900 dollars," he repeated to himself quietly. He had thought that £10000 was a large sum of money, but now his pockets were full of even more. At this point, Harry was beginning to question the necessity of withdrawing so much from his vault. However, he quickly decided that it was better to be safe rather than sorry, and that if he didn't spend it all, he would just deposit it back into his vault when they returned.

After they had collected their luggage from the carousel, and glanced around the room a bit, Richard led the way toward the large glass doors on the far end of the makeshift casino. Once outside, they were greeted by a massive fleet of vans, taxis, limousines, buses, and other forms of transportation.

"We didn't rent a car," Richard began, "since we didn't really plan on driving anywhere while we're here. From what I read on the Internet, the great thing about the Strip is that everything is pretty close together. For the most part, you can walk wherever you want to go. So all we need to do is take a shuttle to the hotel and we'll be set."

"I did want to mention one thing," Ellen added. "We are in a foreign country. We all know that. But Richard and I thought it would be best if we used some kind of buddy system. As pathetic as that sounds, it's better to be safe than sorry. So I think it would be best if Richard and I were together, and Harry and Hermione were together. Sirius, Remus, Minerva, since you're all adults, I'm not gonna tell you that you need to pair up. You can if you want, and I think it would be best, but you can choose for yourself."

Hermione raised her hand while her mother was speaking, waiting her turn.

"Hermione, I don't think you need to raise your hand," Harry pointed out. "This isn't school. I think it would okay for your to speak out of turn."

Ellen saw this and cracked a smile, before letting her daughter speak.

"Are these gonna be the room arrangements too?" Hermione asked.

"Maybe," Ellen replied.

"Absolutely not!" Richard answered at the exact same moment.

Ellen shot a glare at Richard, and found herself surprised when he did not cower. Hermione made it a point to step away from her parents.

"I've just opened up a major can of awkward," she explained to Harry quietly as she put distance between herself and Richard and Ellen.

"Is this where I conveniently disappear?" Harry asked lightly. "Would that be helpful?"

"No," she replied with a shake of her head. "You didn't do anything wrong. So, before you start, don't even think about apologizing and blaming yourself."

As she finished speaking, their shuttle arrived. Upon seeing it for the first time, Harry had to do a double-take. He had unconsciously set his expectations too high. When he was greeted by a simple white van that appeared to be several years old, he was somewhat perplexed.

"Something wrong?" Hermione asked as they boarded the shuttle. The inside was fitted with three rows of seats, in addition to the front pair. Richard and Ellen sat in the far back, while Minerva, Remus, and Sirius sat in the middle row. As they were the last to board since Hermione had walked away from her parents, she and Harry had the front row to themselves.

"I guess I was just expecting something more. Maybe a stretch limousine or something like that. This is Vegas after all."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Harry. Why would we rent a limousine for a ride that's only gonna last a few minutes? We're just going to the hotel, not rolling up to the high-roller room at a casino or something."

"Well, a bloke can dream, can't he?"

Suddenly, Hermione's eyes widened as she pressed her face against the window. "Look!" she exclaimed, pointing.

"What is it?" Harry asked, not understanding what she was pointing to.

"That advertisement! They're playing _Phantom of the Opera_ at The Venetian!"

Harry squinted and was able to make out the advertisement atop a passing taxi that advertised for the show. "No, that just says '_Phantom_,'" he replied.

"Same thing," she responded, her excitement not waning. "Mum, dad, can we go see it?"

"We'll see. It depends on if we have time," Ellen replied curtly, her attention elsewhere.

"What's so exciting about an opera?" Sirius asked from the row behind Harry and Hermione.

"Oh, it's only one of the most famous shows of all time," Hermione said, as though it were the most obvious statement in the world. "But I've never been to see it. Now I might finally get the chance!"

Meanwhile, in the backseat, Richard and Ellen were engaged in a conversation of their own.

"They are not staying in the same room!" Richard hissed, purposefully trying to keep his voice down.

"Why?" Ellen asked firmly.

"Do I need to spell it out? There's a reason we didn't let them stay in the same room back at that rancid house without keeping the door open. Just think about what would happen if the door was closed and they had a room of their own. Not to mention in a room that probably only has one bed."

"And?" she pressed. "Do you really think that they'll take advantage of that? Shall I list the reasons why that's total crap?"

"Humor me."

"Let's see. First, they're not together. They're not a couple, and I highly doubt that they'll act like it when they're alone. Second, we let them stay with each other on the other side of the country for nine months out of the year. And to my knowledge, your daughter's virtue is perfectly intact."

"But they're getting older, and you yourself said that if they aren't a couple now, they soon will be. That's what I'm afraid of."

"Then we'll deal with that when we get there. But you know just as well as I do that he's the best friend that Hermione's ever had. She didn't have many friends before Hogwarts, and I realize now that we only made that worse by encouraging her to do well in her studies. She's gotta break out of her comfort zone sometime. Like it or not, I really think we need to give her that opportunity."

"It's not Hermione I'm worried about," Richard grumbled.

"Oh, come off the overprotective father routine. It's not very becoming of you, Richard. Do you really think Harry's gonna take advantage of the situation if we let them room together? If they ever do get together, it will only be because Hermione dragged him kicking and screaming. So the question is, do you trust your daughter?"

Richard didn't answer, but instead looked out the window as the shuttle turned onto the Strip. The shuttle changed lanes, passing a large replica of the Eiffel Tower, which served as the entrance to the Paris resort.

"Besides," Ellen continued, sensing that her husband was not going to respond, "if Hermione is trying to pursue Harry, then we owe it to her to help however we can. And this is one way we can do that. Besides, she's mature enough to know how far she can go…not that I think it will get to that point, at least while we're here."

"You seem to have more faith in the boy than I do. I mean, I like him fine, I just know what teenage boys are like at that age. Remember, I was one at one point. I know what goes through their mind more than anything else." Ellen opened her mouth to protest. "But," Richard continued, "if you think we should trust them, then who am I to argue? I will tell you this though, if he so much as touches her or does anything I don't like-"

"Yes, yes, I get the picture," Ellen interrupted. "And since you saw my point," she added, leaning over to peck him on the cheek, "you won't be sleeping on the couch tonight. And since it's a hotel room, I don't think the couch would be very comfortable anyway. Granted, they usually do turn into a bed, which just helps my case when it comes to _their_ rooming arrangements."

Richard crossed his arms and glowered angrily out the window as he watched the iconic buildings of the Las Vegas Strip continue to pass. With a final turn to the left, the shuttle pulled up in front of the MGM Grand resort, a massive green building that looked to be made out of pure emerald.

As the shuttle stopped, Hermione opened the door and jumped out, followed by Harry and the rest. Once Richard had exited the van, he walked to the driver's window and paid him, while the others began to unload their luggage from the back.

"I didn't know we were going to the Emerald City," Hermione remarked. "I wonder what room the wizard's in?"

"Huh?" Harry asked.

"Wizard of Oz," she replied. "Don't tell me you haven't seen it."

"I can count the number of films I've seen on one hand. And I don't think a movie with that name would have been near the top of my list growing up. Uncle Vernon didn't much care for the word 'wizard.'"

"Oh," Hermione responded, mentally berating herself for not considering that fact. "I'll just have to add it to the list of things I need to introduce you to then."

Just as she finished speaking, Hermione noticed that the rest of the group had gone on ahead and entered the building, leaving Harry and her behind. The shuttle was still waiting for them to leave before departing. The two rushed through the massive gold-colored doors and into an expansive rotunda, with one wall completely covered by a large check-in counter. The rest of the group was just inside waiting for them expectantly.

"About time, you two," Richard commented. "We couldn't go on ahead, since we aren't staying in this hotel, and we didn't want you to get lost."

"We aren't staying here?" Hermione asked. "Then why did we stop here?"

"Well, we _are_ staying here, but we aren't staying _here_," her father replied cryptically.

"Well that explains everything."

"No, we're staying at the MGM Grand resort, but in a separate hotel on the property, The Signature. You might've seen the white and gold towers behind this building? Those are it. We just need to find a way to get back to them so we can check in."

Richard led the way out of the lobby and onto the adjacent casino floor, intent on finding his way to their hotel without asking for assistance. As soon as they stepped into the casino though, he was taken aback.

"Damn," he muttered as he looked around. The MGM casino was absolutely massive, stretching in every direction, with wide swaths of gambling space extending like large hallways in front of them as well as to their right. His face lit up as he saw an overhead sign indicating the direction to the poker room, but his attention was drawn away by an elbow from his wife.

"How about using those signs to find our way to the hotel instead of to the nearest poker table?" she suggested.

Sirius and Remus snickered but were quickly quieted by a glare from Minerva.

"Sorry Minnie," Sirius apologized, addressing the transfiguration mistress by her least favorite moniker.

"Mr. Black," she retorted, silky venom dripping from her voice, "I believe I told you, in your _first_ year no less, to never address me by that horrid name. I also believe I have reminded you at least once every year since then. However, let me repeat myself one more time. Do not call me by that name, lest I reveal what really happened on November 28, 1990."

Sirius paled as he gulped audibly at her threat. "Yes…ma'am."

"Much better. Now, I believe we were searching for this hotel of ours?" she offered. "I do believe that I saw a sign that said that The Signature was in that direction." She pointed past the high-limit slot room, deeper into the casino. "Maybe we should check it out?"

Richard, eager to save face after not being able to find their hotel, quickly took Minerva's advice and led the group through the casino. As they turned a corner just after the high-limit slot room, they were faced with a long, wide sloped hallway, reminiscent of an indoor shopping mall. Walking down it, following the signs, they passed restaurants, shops, and meeting halls. At one point, they even passed a small wedding chapel.

"Bear in mind where we are," Ellen remarked, seeing the look of astonishment on Harry's face. Obviously he had not been expecting that.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"This place isn't called Sin City for nothing. The city sells itself as being an entertainment center, as well as a place to do things you couldn't do anywhere else. Getting married whenever you want is one of those things. Wedding chapels have become synonymous with Las Vegas, and so have divorces the next day…at least in celebrity culture that is."

"Oh," Harry replied dumbly. "What's the point though? Couldn't you just elope or go to the county courthouse to get married? Why travel all the way here just to tie the knot?"

Ellen shook her head. She had tried to be subtle, but it had obviously not worked. "That's not what I mean, Harry. Let's put it this way: many times when people come to Las Vegas, they meet someone and instantly fall in love. Or so they think. Then, after one night of passion and intrigue, they get married. As soon as they are sober though, many of them dissolve the marriage. These wedding chapels are here to cater to those needs."

Harry didn't reply as they continued to walk, eventually reaching a large staircase that went down to the pool. However, according to various signage, the group would need to travel through a small single glass door near the stairs in order to get to their hotel.

"Seems like it's a bit out of the way," Richard commented.

"Maybe that's the point," Remus suggested. "To make it seem more exclusive."

The entered the door to find a long hallway, complete with moving sidewalks commonly found in airports. Harry, who had not used one in either Heathrow Airport or Mccarran Airport in Las Vegas, jumped on the belt eagerly and began to walk normally. His increased speed meant he reached the end of the glass hallway before the others.

"What're you lot waiting for?" he called obnoxiously. "That thing's there for a reason!"

"I think he's a bit excited to be here," Hermione said to nobody in particular. "I don't have the heart to bring him down from his high."

"I do," Sirius replied. "Oi, Harry," he shouted, "you do realize you're acting out because of a moving sidewalk, right? You realize how pathetic that is?"

"Yep!" Harry yelled back, this time at a slightly quieter volume as the group approached. "But it's fun!"

"And you do realize that you're almost sixteen years old, but you're acting like a five year old?"

"Yep!"

"Where did this come from?" Sirius asked the others quietly. "It just came out of nowhere."

Hermione shrugged. "Dunno. Maybe he's just trying to unwind or something. He's always so serious; maybe this is his way of relaxing or playing around."

"_Or_," Sirius suggested, "he could be trying to show off in a juvenile way."

"Why would he be showing off?" Hermione asked.

Richard turned his head to glare at Sirius warningly.

"I couldn't tell you for sure," Sirius lied, heeding Richard's warning. "But it looks like plain 'ol showing off to me."

The group met up with Harry at the end of the hallway, only to find that the hallway turned and another hall lay just around the corner, similar to the first. As Harry saw another moving walkway, his eyes brightened once more and he made a move toward it. However, he was stopped by a hand grabbing the back of his baggy t-shirt. He turned to find Hermione holding him back.

"Not making the best impression, Harry," she warned.

At her warning, Harry instantly calmed down. "Sorry," he apologized sheepishly. "Just got a bit excited."

Hermione smiled reassuringly. "That's alright, Harry. Just keep that in mind before you go and do something…spontaneous."

"Right."

After traversing this second hallway, the group found themselves at an intersection, with a path splitting off to their right, while the hallway continued on in front. Looking at the directional signs, they found that they had entered Tower One.

"This is where we get off," Richard announced, turning and walking down the new path. This hall was quite short, and led to a small, tastefully decorated lobby with a single reception desk on one side. Richard approached it and began to converse with the employee behind the counter.

A few moments later, he returned to the group, with a few pieces of paperwork and a set of envelopes and keys.

"So, we've got four rooms," he informed the others. "All of them are in Tower One, since I asked for it, figuring it would be a shorter walk. The other two towers are farther down that hallway we were in. They're also all pretty much next to each other, which will be…" he glanced over at his wife, "convenient. Now, Ellen and I will be together, obviously. Sirius and Remus, I'm not sure about your personal…situation, but I'm assuming that you'll want to room together."

"Hey!" Sirius exclaimed. "I'm not a poofter! And, at least to my knowledge, Remus here isn't either."

Richard shrugged, but pressed on. "As for the others-"

"Minerva can have her own room," Ellen interjected, giving the older woman a knowing smile. "I just think it would be most appropriate. So that just leaves-"

"Us," Harry said uncertainly, glancing at Hermione nervously. She, however, picked up on his nervousness.

"If you aren't okay with that, Harry, then I'm sure we can figure something else out," she said uncertainly as the group made their way toward the elevators.

"No!" Harry exclaimed, but quickly calmed. "No, it's alright. I just…wasn't sure how you felt about the whole situation. But I'm okay with it if you are. How bad could it be anyway? We live together for most of the year, so it'll be just like old times."

"Old times?" she repeated as the boarded an elevator for the eighth floor. "You make it sound like we've been out of school for years and haven't seen each other since."

"You know what I mean. It'll be great."

* * *

><p><em>July 24, 2011<em>

_4:37 PM _

Harry inserted the keycard into the lock on his and Hermione's room and waited for the audible click accompanying the green light on the lock. As he heard it, he glanced around himself to see Sirius and Remus entering their room next door, and Richard and Ellen entering theirs directly across the hall from his and Hermione's. Minerva was next door to the elder Grangers.

Opening the door, Harry dragged his suitcase into the room and held the door open for Hermione to do the same. The pair set their luggage just inside the door and let it close before looking around their home for the duration of their holiday.

The room was tastefully decorated in neutral tones with indistinct furniture, with the exception of the large wooden armoire that held a flat-screen television. The glass cabinets on either side of the television, as well as the doors underneath were empty, waiting to be filled. An inoffensive sofa rested across from the television, separated by a small coffee table. In total, this pseudo-sitting room was about three meters wide, making it just wide enough to seat several people comfortably. A small kitchenette could be found just inside the door, attached to the sitting room, complete with a bar and full cooking facilities. A door to a restroom could also be found in this room.

Directly adjacent to the restroom door was another door, this time into the bedroom. Harry and Hermione went through this door together, and stopped short at the sight before them.

"Only one bed," Harry muttered.

"Well, that could be awkward," Hermione replied. "We could just-"

"I can sleep on the sofa," Harry offered.

"No, I don't want you to have to do that, Harry. We can figure something out," she offered hesitantly.

"But you know full well it'll be uncomfortable," he reasoned. "Even though the bed is pretty big, it'll just be awkward. I'm sure the sofa can turn into a bed anyway."

"If you're sure…"

"Honestly, Hermione, I'm sure your dad isn't too thrilled about the rooming arrangement, and I don't really want him staring daggers at me during the entire trip, wondering if I'm sleeping with his daughter." His face reddened as he realized the implications of what he had just said. "In the same bed, that is," he added.

"Right," she said quickly, turning away. "Um, should we start unpacking then? Might as well get it done now instead of waiting. I can never be like daddy; he always leaves his stuff in his suitcase or luggage during the entire trip, never unpacking. He just pulls new clothes out of the bag every day. Just wait. His clothes will be completely wrinkled tomorrow."

"I'll keep an eye out for it," he replied as he quickly exited the bedroom to retrieve his suitcase, in order to avoid further awkwardness. He carried it over and placed it on the sofa and began to empty it into some of the drawers in the armoire. He began by pulling out his cousin's former t-shirts, some of which were large enough to hang down to Harry's knees. These, he folded and tucked away in one drawer before returning to his bag.

"Harry?" Hermione asked uncertainly from behind him. He turned to see her dressed in short khaki shorts and a pink tank, playing awkwardly with her hair as she stood uncertainly. "What's happening with us?"

Harry almost dropped the pair of jeans he was holding due to shock from her question. "What do you mean?" he asked nervously.

"In there," she replied, gesturing to the bedroom, "and lately, things have just been a bit off between us. I know I've used it already today, but the word 'awkward' describes it best. Why?"

Under the guise of looking through his bag, Harry avoided eye contact as he responded. "I dunno," he said simply. "But I do see what you mean. I just think part of it is Sirius joking with us, combined with your father watching my every move like a hawk. I don't really think they think a boy and a girl can be best friends and nothing more, especially at our age."

Hermione looked at him strangely. "Is that what I am to you?" she asked. "Just a friend?"

_Why is she making this so bloody difficult?_ he mused. _She's asking questions that I haven't even been able to answer myself, let alone to her. I haven't even figured things out yet, especially after that blasted kiss. I've gotta be careful with this one._

He gave her a small smile as he shook his head in response and chose his words carefully. "Hermione," he began, "you aren't _just_ anything. I can honestly say that you are my best friend."

Hermione gave an imperceptible nod as her attention wandered to the clothes Harry had scattered about the room in an attempt to sort them. "Jeans, Harry?" she asked quietly, changing the topic. "And tees? Is that all you brought?"

He shrugged. "Unless you want to sort through my underwear, then yeah," he joked, trying to bring a semblance of normalcy back into their conversation. True, they had been joking about comfortably over the course of the summer so far, but the summer had also been peppered with uncomfortable and awkward moments. Harry had to admit that Hermione was correct at least in that respect.

"I think I'll save that for another time, Harry," she retorted. "But that's not what I was talking about. I was just looking at the thermometer in the other room. Using the wonky temperature system they use here, its almost 110 degrees outside. You can't expect to wear jeans in this weather!"

"I always have at home during the summer," he argued.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Harry, this isn't Britain. It's a lot hotter here, and you will die in this heat wearing those clothes!"

"I've survived worse," he said as he winked. "Besides, they're baggy, so I'll be able to get good airflow."

"Not good enough," she maintained stubbornly.

"Okay…" Harry replied slowly and uncertainly. "So what do you want me to do about it?"

"Come with me," she ordered. She turned swiftly and moved toward the door. Harry followed closely behind as she wrenched the door open and crossed the hall.

"What're you doing?" he asked as she knocked on the door.

"Solving a problem," she replied curtly as the door opened revealing Ellen Granger.

"What's up you two?" she asked, inviting the pair inside.

"Mum, I need your help," Hermione announced as Harry took a seat on their sofa, which was placed identically to his and Hermione's room, except mirrored. In fact, the entire room seemed to be a mirror image of the teens'.

"With?" Ellen asked.

"Harry doesn't have any clothes!" Hermione responded emphatically.

Harry raised his hand in his own defense. "I beg to differ," he said, gesturing to the clothes he was wearing. But Hermione waved him off.

"Harry's got this bogus idea that he'll be able to wander around Las Vegas wearing hand-me-down jeans and oversized t-shirts. No shorts, sandals, nothing made for summer. That's just a load of-"

"I think I get the idea, Hermione," Ellen interrupted.

"What idea?" Richard asked as he walked into the room, drying his hair with a towel. He had apparently either just showered or cleaned himself up after the flight.

"Your daughter thinks that Harry needs some new clothes. I can certainly see where she is coming from…no offense though, Harry."

"I'm not quite sure how to take that," he mumbled.

"Mum…" Hermione began, whining.

"I get the picture, Hermione. Lemme just get something on my feet and I'll go with you two."

"Go?" Harry asked, confused. "Go where?"

"Why shopping of course!" Ellen said excitedly.

"Now? As in, right now?"

"Well, yeah," Hermione offered, as if it was the most obvious point in the world. "When else would we go?"

Harry looked to Richard for assistance, but received none. "Don't look at me, kid. You'll have to get yourself out of this mess on your own."

Harry glared at Richard, who laughed in response. "Lot of help you are," Harry growled.

"What do you expect me to do, Harry?" Richard asked. "Save you from the ravenous horde of a teenage girl and her mother? All they want to do is take you on a friendly shopping trip for clothes. What's the worst that could happen?"

"Would you like me to let you know once we get back?" Harry asked as he moved toward the door. Ellen had put on a pair of shoes and had indicated that she was ready to leave. Harry was taken aback that she was so willing to drop everything just to go shopping for clothes for him. It could not bode well for him.

"Sure thing," Richard replied as he sat down on the sofa and threw his feet up onto the table. He picked up the remote control and began to search the television for something to watch.

"Come on, Harry," Hermione urged, opening the door.

"I think we should visit Sirius and Remus to let them know where we're going," Ellen suggested, causing Harry to groan. He just wanted to get the trip over with, since he couldn't imagine a clothes shopping trip with two females going well for him.

Ellen shook her head in exasperation as she knocked on Sirius's and Remus's door. Remus answered the door a moment later.

"I'm assuming you're looking for Sirius?" he assumed.

Ellen was taken aback. "What makes you say that?" she asked.

"Well, since I assume you brought me along to babysit him, it makes sense that you would come to visit him instead of me." Remus stuck his lip out in a pout as he finished speaking.

"Oh, come off it, Remus," Harry chided. "You know full well we asked you to come along because we thought you'd be a good fit. That, and to keep an eye on Sirius."

"I know," Remus replied. "I was just funning with you."

"Now, can we talk to Sirius?" Hermione asked.

"I might've known," Remus moaned. He stepped aside, opening the door wider to allow the trio into the room. "Padfoot!" he yelled once he closed the door. "Take off the dress, we've got company!"

Harry snickered as Sirius poked his head into the sitting room from the bedroom. "Shut the hell up, Moony," he growled as he opened the door and stepped out. "Now, what could two lovely ladies and one ugly godson want with my services?"

"How often did you have to stroke your ego to get it to be this big?" Harry asked sarcastically.

Sirius shrugged. "Well, I had thirteen years alone in Azkaban, Harry, so I had plenty of time. Now, what's up?"

"We're gonna take Harry shopping for clothes," Hermione announced, indicating to both herself and her mother. "He seems to think his cousin's hand-me-downs will work here in Vegas."

Sirius's look saddened as he glanced at Harry apologetically. "Sorry we didn't get you any clothes over the summer, cub," he said. "I guess I didn't really think about it. And now you're about to be punished for my mistake," he muttered at the end.

Harry chuckled in response. "Don't worry about it, Sirius. It's not like I went to you complaining about my clothes, is it? Besides, I didn't really need any special clothes back home anyway."

Sirius reached into his pocket. "Here, at least let me make it up to you," he said as he pulled out a wad of bills. He peeled off several and handed them to Harry. "Take a some money so you don't have to pay out of your own pocket."

Harry counted the bills and found that there were twenty hundred dollar bills. "_'Some'_ money?" he balked as he tucked the bills into his pocket. "Sirius, there's two thousand dollars in here. How much did you actually bring?"

Shaking his head, Sirius responded. "Now, Harry, you know better than to ask someone how much money they have. But I brought 10,000 galleons, or about $159,000," he finished casually.

Ellen and Hermione's jaws dropped at that amount, which caused Sirius to shrug. "Figured I better put the family money use sometime," he continued. "Worst case scenario, like Harry here, I just don't spend it all and we go home with a wad of money. But I thought I might as well bring enough to make this a real holiday. Now go on, get going, Harry, before it gets too late."

Harry glanced at the clock to see that it was approaching five o'clock in the afternoon. "Yeah," he said, "it'd be a real shame if we had to end our trip early because it got too late." He feigned disappointment at this possibility.

"Then we better get moving," Hermione observed. "We've got a lot of shopping to do, right mum? We've gotta get a whole new wardrobe and everything. I refuse to let Harry wear those rags anymore."

"Hey!" he cried. "Those're my clothes! Just because they're old and were my cousin's doesn't mean-"

"Oh, sorry Harry," Hermione apologized. "I didn't think about that. I just figured you'd rather have newer clothes that actually fit you instead of whatever those dreadful people threw at you."

"Yeah," he replied simply, opening the door into the hall once more. Once the trio was in the hall, they made their way to the elevators and took them down to the first floor of the tower. Retracing their steps from earlier in the afternoon, they soon found themselves on the casino floor of the MGM Grand.

"Do you have any idea where we're going?" Harry asked. "I mean, where are we gonna get all kinds of different clothes here? You'd have to find a place with several different shops."

"Actually, Harry," Ellen began, "now that you mention it, Richard and I were looking over a map of the Strip that was on the counter in our room. I think I saw a mall farther down the street that should have some shops we can go to."

"How far down the street?" he asked cautiously.

Ellen shrugged slightly as they exited the resort into the sweltering outdoors. "I'm not sure. It looked like it was in that direction," she pointed down the street past the Paris resort. "I think it was near the Treasure Island hotel. I guess we'll find out when we get down there, won't we?"

The three set off in that direction, staying on the same side of the street as the MGM. Hermione and Ellen, having travelled to London many times before, were not out of their element on the crowded sidewalks of Las Vegas. However, due to the fact that he had rarely spent time in London, Harry was struggling to keep up as they traveled against the stream of people. At times, Hermione and Ellen would leave his sight, but those instances were rare and, for the most part, Harry was able to stay right next to them.

As the crossed the street and reached the gambling hall known as Casino Royale, Harry noticed that his surroundings seemed to change. Gone was the glitz and glamour of the large resorts, and it seemed as though he had stepped into a seedier part of town, dominated by small gambling halls and out of the way shops. In the distance, and also across the street, he could still make out large Las Vegas landmarks, including The Bellagio and Caesar's Palace, but for now, the atmosphere was markedly different.

Part of the reason their surroundings seemed so different, Harry reasoned, was due to the type of people who were crowding this area of the sidewalk. Ellen and Hermione seemed to be consciously sticking closer to Harry and moving more closely together in general. This was due to the fact the sidewalk seemed to be filled with what Harry had derogatorily named 'street peddlers'. However, it was what they were peddling that was the problem. As the trio passed by, each of the men, dressed in large pink and white t-shirts, would smack a deck of cards against their palm before offering one to each passerby. While initially tempted to take one, Harry quickly saw that the ground was littered with them, and realized it would be best if he declined. The cards were actually fliers with images for prostitutes.

Moving quickly away from this area of the Strip, Harry, Hermione, and Ellen crossed to the other side of the street at the intersection between The Bellagio and Caesar's Palace. Finally free from the peddlers, Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

"Now I think I know why they call this 'Sin City,'" he said as they walked past the massive Roman-themed resort.

"Oh, I think that's only the tip of the iceberg, Harry," Ellen replied. "Prostitution isn't legal in Las Vegas. It's just that these people claim to be working for an 'escort' service, and are providing 'entertainment.' It doesn't help matters any that the police aren't always cracking down on it. That's why they're able to get away with that. Just don't make eye contact and keep moving, and you'll be alright."

"I'll keep that in mind as often as I come down this far," he joked.

"You never know, Harry," Ellen retorted. "We're here for a week, so we might find ourselves walking down here again. Ah, it looks like that might be it."

Her announcement drew Harry and Hermione's attention ahead, toward what appeared to be a large outdoor plaza with a covering that appeared to be a crashed spaceship supported by pillars. A massive display screen announced the name of the shopping center, The Fashion Show Mall, as well as various shows and shops, while advertising for specific products as well. But they paid little attention to the sign once they saw the name of the mall. Beyond that, it was of little consequence.

"They don't do anything small here, do they?" Hermione asked.

"It's part of the city. Everything has to be a destination," her mother explained.

They entered the large building, only to find that it appeared much larger on the inside than on the outside.

"So where do you want to start, Harry?" Ellen asked.

"You're asking me?" he asked in response. "I have no idea where to begin." He looked at Hermione. "It was your idea to come here," he added, "so where do you think we should go first?"

Hermione placed her hands on her hips. "Well excuse me for caring about your appearance!" she exclaimed playfully. "I was just trying to help."

Harry looked at her skeptically, maintaining eye contact as an intimidation technique. Finally, Hermione cracked under the pressure.

"Ugh, I can't win with you, can I?" she asked. "Fine then, I think we should start with some casual clothes. Formal clothes can come later."

"Formal clothes?" Harry questioned as Hermione examined the mall map which was stationed near the door. "Why would I need formal clothes?"

"You never know…" she trailed off as she weighed the various shopping options she was presented with. "We might need to go out to a nice dinner while we're here or something like that."

Harry groaned audibly, causing Ellen to chuckle. "So where to then, Hermione?" she asked.

"Abercrombie," she replied simply, taking a final look at the map. "From what we've got to choose from, that'll probably be the cheapest while being somewhat…modern looking."

"Does that mean I'll walk out of there wearing nothing but chrome then?" Harry mocked. "After all, that _would_ be modern."

"Oh, shut it Harry and get moving."

"Yes, ma'am," he mocked as he followed her toward where the map indicated their destination was.

Forty five minutes later found Harry emerging from a changing room to an audience consisting of Hermione and Ellen. He was sporting a new pair of blue and white plaid shorts and a gray polo shirt. Almost from the moment he had stepped into the store, Hermione and Ellen had been thrusting various articles of clothing at him, suggesting he try them on, while going back to retrieve more garments as he changed. It had become very tiresome very quickly. As he stepped out of the changing room this time, he gave a quick spin to give the mother and daughter pair a look in order to gauge their approval.

"I like the shorts," Hermione commented. "But the shirt…" she trailed off as she bit her bottom lip in contemplation.

"I could take it off," Harry suggested, "and look like that model on the wall over there." He gestured toward the large poster right behind Hermione of a shirtless male model. "Just a second." Harry started to withdraw his arms into the shirt as Hermione's eyes bugged out.

"Harry, don't play with her," Ellen ordered lightly. "This is neither the time nor the place for that. How about the other shirts?"

Harry shrugged. "I liked this one the best," he replied. "The blue one just seemed odd, and the red one I just didn't like. This one was really my favorite."

"I liked the green one," Hermione offered, her face no longer flushed. "It plays off your eyes really well."

"It all comes down to what you want, Harry," Ellen said. "You're the one who'll have to live with these clothes."

Harry glanced down at the pile of clothes he had chosen so far, including two other pairs of shorts, two pairs of jeans that finally fit, a series of different tees, a couple of button-down plaid shirts, and two pairs of sandals. There were even several pairs of boxers, much to Harry's chagrin.

"I think I'll go with the green one," he decided finally, eyeing Hermione carefully. Ellen smiled slightly, but hid it well, as Hermione brightened.

"Great choice, Harry!" she said happily. "Is there anything else you wanted here?"

Harry's eyes widened in panic as his mind drifted to an image of himself as a giant dress-up doll for Hermione and Ellen. Even though he had only been in the store for less than an hour, he was already eager to leave and be done with the entire shopping trip.

"Nope," he replied quickly, reaching down to retrieve his pile of clothes. Without sparing a second glance to Hermione or her mother, Harry rushed to the checkout counter and placed his intended purchases before the employee. A few minutes and four hundred dollars later, Harry carried two large paper bags out of the store.

"Now, time for formal clothes," Hermione announced, and was quickly greeted by a loud groan from Harry. "Oh come on, Harry, was it really that bad back there?"

"Yes!" he replied instantly.

"It took less than an hour. We just need to make one more stop and we'll be done."

"Yeah, but how long will that one stop take?"

"Well, the faster we get there, the faster we'll be done," she pointed out.

Harry must have agreed with her point, because he took off in a random direction away from the other two.

"Where're you going, Harry?" Ellen asked, stifling a chuckle.

Harry skidded to a stop, realizing that he had no idea what store they were going to next, or what direction it lay in. "I…don't know," he admitted sheepishly.

"Try Nordstrom, Harry," Hermione suggested, nodding her head toward the large store at the end of the long mall.

"Err…yeah," he replied, turning completely around to return to the other two and head toward the store in question. It took a few minutes to reach the store and the men's department within it, but once they were inside, Harry had absolutely no idea why he was there.

"Um…what am I looking for?" he asked as he looked around the store at the various articles of men's clothing.

"Whatever you want," Ellen replied simply. "What _do_ you want?"

"I dunno. I thought it was Hermione's idea to come here in the first place?"

"Yeah," Hermione defended herself, "you need formal clothes. Sort of like your Hogwarts uniform, but no robes, and just more…formal in general. So we should start with slacks and move up from there. Maybe a few dress shirts. At least one full suit…" she trailed off as voice quieted and her musings continued. Harry rolled his eyes in response as Hermione continued to make suggestions.

She quickly found two pairs of dress slacks, one black and one gray, before ushering Harry into a fitting room. He emerged several minutes later with both pairs in his arms.

"Well?" Hermione asked impatiently, tapping her foot.

"I like the black ones best."

"In this heat, Harry?" she questioned. "You'll kill yourself in black."

"But am I only going to wear them here?" he argued. "What about when we get back home? I need something that will work in both places."

"He's right you know, Hermione," Ellen interjected. "Hermione, you can't be so controlling about everything. It's his choice, remember. You can make suggestions, but don't try to make the decisions for him." She lowered her voice as she whispered to her daughter. "That comes across as overbearing, and nobody likes overbearing." Hermione blushed slightly but nodded.

"Wait," Harry said suddenly. "Where did the bags go?" He had just noticed that the Abercrombie bags had disappeared and were nowhere to be found.

"They're in my pocket," Hermione answered.

"Um…okay," Harry replied uncertainly.

"I shrank them," she elaborated, pulling her wand out from the back waistband of her shorts briefly to show him before putting it back.

"Hermione!" he hissed. "You'll get caught!"

"Oh, honestly Harry," she began with a sigh. "Haven't you read anything about America? There aren't any underage magic laws here. The U.S. magical government is of the opinion that it is best for students to use their magic whenever and wherever possible, in order to get practice. It's actually part of the magical constitution: freedom to bear wands. They don't monitor underage magic here."

"But our wands are from Britain!" he pressed. "They could still track them here!"

She sighed once more. "Harry, the Ministry doesn't track wands. They track location. While it would make sense for them to place a tracker on every wand that Mr. Ollivander sells, it just wouldn't be feasible. They would have to deactivate the tracker for every witch or wizard who turns seventeen, making for a lot more work. Also, if they were tracking the wands alone, they would receive countless underage magic detections during the school year, due to the amount we use our wands at Hogwarts. So the Ministry tracks underage magic use based on where it occurs, not by which wand performs it. Hogwarts is naturally excluded from the detection system. As a result, they can't track us here. We can do magic as we please while we're here."

"Oh…" Harry replied, as he absently felt his wand in the front pocket of his jeans. Due to the large size of his cousin's clothes and their subsequent deep pockets, his wand fit perfectly. Ever since he had been scolded, once more, by Moody for carrying it in his back pocket, he had taken to carrying his wand in his front pocket.

Hermione, for her part, let her eyes follow Harry's hand as he felt for his wand. "Is that a wand in your pocket, Harry?" she joked. "Or are you just-"

"Hermione," Ellen warned quietly. "Is that really appropriate?"

"No, mum," Hermione mumbled, looking at the ground.

"And am I going to have to separate you two?" Ellen pressed jokingly.

"No, mum."

"Then both of you need to watch what you're saying, alright?"

"Yes mum," Hermione said.

"Yes ma'am," Harry responded.

"That's better. Now that we're through with that ugly business, let's keep going, shall we? We're burning daylight here."

"Right," Harry sighed. "What's next?"

"You're just getting one pair of slacks, Harry?" Hermione asked. "Don't you think you should get at least one more? Just in case?"

"How about khaki?" Ellen suggested helpfully, noticing that Hermione had only had Harry try on a black and a gray pair. If he ever found it necessary to wear them during their trip, a pair of khaki might help immensely in the dessert heat.

Harry nodded in agreement as he went to put the gray pair back and retrieve a pair of khaki that were similar in size and style to the black pair he liked. He returned to the other two a moment later, ready to continue shopping.

"Aren't you going to try them on?" Hermione asked.

"Why? I already know the black ones fit, and these are exactly the same. What's the point?"

Hermione didn't answer, but instead shook her head in mock disgust. Harry smiled broadly at his ability to shorten their time in the store by not trying on another article of clothing.

"Fine then," the youngest Granger began, "we need shirts. And ties. And at least one sport jacket. Oh, and shoes. And black socks. But if you're going to get the khakis, then we need brown shoes and brown socks too. Oh, we've got so much more to do!" she squealed.

Harry rolled his eyes and sighed as he prepared himself mentally for another long round of clothes shopping.

* * *

><p><em>July 24, 2011<em>

_7:59 PM_

Harry, Hermione, and Ellen returned to their hotel nearly three hours after setting off for their shopping excursion. Despite his resentment towards the torture of shopping with two women, Harry was somewhat pleased with the new wardrobe they had managed to settle on. He now had a large amount of casual clothes for their holiday, as well as a small assortment of various formal clothes, just in case the situation called for them.

As they reached their rooms, Harry searched through his pockets for their room key at the same moment as Ellen opened the door and entered hers. Just as Harry found the key, Ellen stuck her head back into the hall to address the two teens.

"When you're done putting those away," she said, referring to the clothes, "you wanna come over here?"

Harry and Hermione shrugged in agreement before Harry opened the door to their room. The two entered and Harry pulled out his shrunken Nordstoms purchases, including a carefully folded suit jacket. He placed them on the counter in the kitchen as Hermione did the same with the Abercrombie bags. Then, Hermione reached behind her back and lifted her shirt up to access her wand.

Harry averted his eyes slightly as her tank rode up, exposing a bit of skin. _Can't look_, he told himself. _Can't look. It wouldn't be right…I don't want to look awkward around her like she said earlier._ But he glanced back quickly just as her clothing returned to normal.

A moment later, when his purchases had been returned to normal and stowed away with the rest of his belongings, Harry and Hermione left their room and knocked on the door to Ellen and Richard's. Ellen answered the door almost immediately.

"Where're your new clothes?" she asked Harry.

"I thought it was getting too late to change and would be kinda pointless," Harry replied as they stepped into the room and Ellen closed the door behind them. As Harry and Hermione entered, they were greeted by the sight of their entire party, plus one: Severus Snape. Harry sighed in disgust as he laid eyes on his least favorite professor, but said nothing.

"Ah, Harry, excellent," Minerva said as she saw them enter. "And Hermione. Perfect. Severus had just joined us when Ellen returned, and we managed to convince him to wait for you two before beginning."

"It wasn't easy," Sirius offered.

"Beginning what?" Harry asked.

"His report on what he's found out so far, of course," Minerva explained. "Severus has been here for a few days already, and has been able to learn some basic information about what is going on. Severus?"

Snape straightened up in his seat on the sofa, revealing that, for once, he was not sporting long, billowing black robes. Instead, he looked to be wearing a solid black tee over black jeans, with his long hair tied back in a neat ponytail.

"As most of you know," Snape began, glaring at Harry, "but some of you may have forgotten, I brought young Mr. Malfoy here a few days ago under the pretense of visiting his father and learning about his business ventures. While it was not easy to convince Lucius to allow the visit, in the end he trusted me enough to allow it. However, whatever Lucius is hiding for the Dark Lord must be of great importance, as Lucius has not let any scraps of information slip thus far. Despite this…disappointing setback, my time here has not been wasted, unlike some of you would be predisposed to do." He looked at Harry pointedly before continuing. "I have, in fact, learned much about Mr. Malfoy's property. You may have noticed it when outside this hotel, as it is just down the street, across from the resort that looks like a large obsidian pyramid. The Luxor, I believe they call it. At any rate, Mr. Malfoy's hotel is directly across the street from The Luxor, and is named The Merlin, for obvious reasons. It is the first hybrid casino in Las Vegas, combining elements of both the magical and muggle worlds. As such, it caters to members of both societies."

"Then what's to stop the magical people from cheating in the casino?" Harry asked.

Snape sighed irritably. "Potter, your mouth moves faster than your brain. I was getting to that point. However, to respond to your impatience, let me explain what I have learned through both my wanderings within The Merlin, as well as some research into Las Vegas itself. Traditional Las Vegas casinos must abide by a series of rules and regulations set forth by the Nevada Gaming Commission, often referred to as the NGC. These rules govern various aspects of the casino, and work to ensure fairness for both the resort and their players. While it is the first magical resort in Las Vegas, The Merlin is not the first magical resort in the United States. As a result, there is a national Magical Gaming Commission, or MGC, that provides various rules and regulations for play in a magical resort. The Merlin must abide by the rules of both regulatory bodies."

"So what does that mean in the end?" Richard asked. "Different security measures?"

Snape nodded. "In a word, yes. The Merlin must comply with security measures required by the MGC. However, all other Las Vegas casinos must abide by them as well, a fact which could lead to some confusion for more feeble minds, so allow me to explain. Like in Britain, the United States separates the muggle and magical world, by employing the International Statute of Secrecy. However, every muggle casino in Las Vegas, whether they know it or not, employs at least one undercover MGC agent who is in charge of magical security for that resort. Lacking this key staff member would mean that a witch or wizard could walk into a muggle casino and use magic to alter the outcome of a game. The Merlin is not required to have this MGC agent, due to the fact that the resort is registered with the MGC as a magical resort. This allows The Merlin to effectively control their own security entirely in-house. But they must comply with strict security requirements, due to the fact that they are likely to attract a larger magical population than the muggle casinos. The first, and most obvious security measure put in place at The Merlin, as well as by the MGC on every other casino, are anti-apparition and anti-portkey wards. This prevents a thief from simply vanishing from the property. However, this has the unfortunate side effect of hampering the effectiveness of resort security, as they can no longer apparate within the property either. In addition, the property is protected by a unique ward at every door. From what I've gathered, it combines an age line with an anti-glamour ward. In essence, it reverses any form of appearance modification or aging magic, in order to reveal a patron's true appearance and age. However, this line has only been placed on the exterior doors, as Lucius has been able to avoid placing it in the restrooms as well."

"What good does that do?" Hermione asked. "Wouldn't he get in trouble with the MGC?"

"Actually, it makes perfect sense," Remus mused. "Lucius has never been above any method of making some quick cash. While I can't be certain, I assume that the MGC only requires this special ward on the exterior doors. If that's the case, Lucius doesn't _have to_ put them inside the casino. So, in theory, someone could enter the casino looking like their usual self, then go to the restroom and apply a glamour charm or something to change their appearance. It would make sense for Lucius to walk a fine line between legal and illegal in an attempt to make as much money as possible. Doing it this way would mean that there could be some underage gamblers in his casino, without him having to do anything about it."

"As much as I hate to say it, wolf," Snape grumbled, "you are correct. However, the security measures do not end there. As you may or may not have noticed when walking through the casino downstairs, there is a unique smell to the air. Muggles believe this to be a form of perfume that is circulated throughout the casino to improve the smell of the air and mask the vile smoke from muggle cigarettes. However, that is not the case. Instead, the smell comes from a vaporized anti-polyjuice potion that is circulated throughout the casino, in order to reverse the effects of polyjuice potion."

"What's the timeframe for its effectiveness?" Hermione asked. "Since it's vaporized, I can't imagine it being as potent or quick as in liquid form."

"You are correct, Miss Granger," Snape groused. "In this form, the potion should take approximately three minutes to be effective."

"Sounds like they're pretty serious about this whole security thing," Richard observed.

"Indeed," Snape agreed, nodding. "However, there are still more security measures to discuss. The entirety of the casino floor is monitored by a magic detection system. This means that only registered wands can be used on the casino floor without alerting security. Due to MGC regulations, only security personnel can use registered wands, to prevent games from being rigged by dealers. This also allows security to have complete control over most matters on the casino floor, including obliviation of muggles who witness any magic being performed."

"What else?" Harry asked.

"At this point, Potter, I am unaware of any further security measures. However, my access to the resort is quite limited, despite my…connections."

"Then we'll just have to visit the place tomorrow, won't we?" Harry proposed.

"Potter," Snape began slowly, "if you decide to pursue that course of action, I must caution you to be very careful. These security measures are not to be trifled with. I advise you to bear that in mind and defer any planning or decisions to the adults."

"Fine then," Harry said, "what would you do?"

"I would not allow you to go," Snape replied smugly. "You would only be a liability, as your past…instabilities have shown. You tend to act first and think later, common traits for a Gryffindor such as yourself. My suggestion would be for you to stay behind and let the adults scout out The Merlin."

"Fat chance of that," Harry muttered.

"Then I can be of no more help to you tonight," Snape announced, rising. Harry's eyes widened. He thought he had been quiet enough with his renunciation that Snape would not be able to hear.

"You forget, Potter, that my hearing is quite excellent. Bear that in mind next time you complain about my class behind my back." With that, he strode out of the room. Harry and Hermione's eyes followed him as he left, half expecting billowing robes, despite the fact that he was not wearing any.

"Well, that went well," Harry commented once Snape had gone.

"Could've gone worse," Hermione responded, sitting down on one of the barstools. "At least we learned something, which is not something we can always say about Professor Snape."

"So you're gonna visit The Merlin tomorrow then?" Richard asked.

"I would assume so," Harry replied, looking to Sirius, Remus, and Minerva for confirmation. Despite the fact that they had come along, he didn't want to assume that Hermione's parents wanted anything to do with their little quest.

Sirius nodded in confirmation, giving Harry the answer he needed.

"I guess we'll have to get up early again then," Harry whined.

As he finished speaking, Hermione let out a large yawn.

"Speaking of getting up early," Ellen said, "it's getting late. For us at least, since we got up so early. I think it might be time to call it a night."

"Good idea," her husband agreed. "Hermione, Harry, take care of yourself and have a good night, alright?" He looked directly at Harry as he said this, causing Harry to shrink back slightly.

Hermione stood from her temporary seat and made her way toward the door, as Sirius, Remus, and Minerva all rose and bid each other good night. Harry opened the door for Hermione and the two returned to their room.

Despite her parents' suggestion, Hermione did not go directly to bed, nor did Harry. In fact, as soon as they entered their room, Harry asked Hermione for her help.

"Hermione…can you help me set up my computer?" he asked.

"We did that in the airport and on the plane," she replied.

"Yeah, but we couldn't get it working on the Internet, remember? From what I hear, I need to get it going with that in order to truly experience what the computer can do."

Remembering that Harry was completely illiterate when it came to technological matters due to his upbringing with the Dursleys, Hermione consented to lend her assistance. Thirty minutes later, after showing Harry how to connect to the hotel's wireless Internet connection and showing him some basic functions of the Internet, Hermione left him to his own devices in the sitting room and headed off to bed.

After changing into her nightclothes in the bathroom that was connected to her bedroom, Hermione returned to the bedroom proper and reopened the door. As the sun dipped below the horizon and the shadows in the sitting room grew longer, Hermione found that the main source of light in the room was the bluish glow coming from Harry's computer. With a subtle shake of her head, Hermione left the door open and climbed into bed.

However, despite her best attempts, Hermione was not able to fall asleep. While she could feel herself drifting away into sleep, she just found herself opening her eyes constantly to check the clock. Something just wasn't right.

As she checked the clock one more time to find that it was nearing midnight and she still hadn't fallen asleep, Hermione sat up and threw her legs over the side of the bed. The entire room was bathed in a pale blue light, allowing her to see despite the blackness of night. She walked over to the slightly open door and poked her head out to see Harry hunched over his computer, tapping away at the keyboard.

"Harry?" she asked quietly, "what're you still doing up?"

Startled by her sudden appearance, Harry jerked his head up from the screen. "Um…there's just so much to do," he whispered, rubbing his eyes. "I never realized how much stuff is on the Internet. Besides, I have a lot of catching up to do and everything."

Hermione gave him a sad smile and nodded slightly. "Alright, but don't stay up too late. We have to get up early tomorrow, remember?"

"Yes mum," he joked tiredly as he turned back to his computer.

With another sad smile, Hermione went back into her room and closed the door softly behind her. She needed her sleep and wasn't going to allow Harry and his computer to keep her away from it.

End of Chapter 7

A/N: I just want to talk about a few things at the end of this chapter, and address a few reviews in the process. First off, let's talk about timeline. After I posted chapter 6, I received at least two reviews stating that the technology in the story is not consistent with the timeline of the original books. That is, indeed, completely correct. However, as I stated before the first chapter, this story is set in modern times. So what does that mean? It simply means that the magical world has been brought forward by 15 years. The muggle world, or our world, has not changed at all. Everything that happened in canon has been moved forward by 15 years. However, there are some exceptions. If I were to write something about the fall of Grindelwald, that would be quite complicated (it could happen…*wink*). However, since we know from canon that Grindelwald was defeated at the end of World War II, I can't very well move that. So, for the sake of keeping things simple, all I'm doing here is adding 15 years of empty space immediately following 1945, at least in the magical world. This would work out to make Dumbledore older, of course, and would add a few other changes, such as an extra fifteen years of studying that Tom Riddle was given (however, that will not factor into the story). So everything that happened before 1945 stays the same, but it's as if the events of 1946 happened in 1960. If that sounds odd, it is. But there are several benefits of this change, at least to me. The first is that I can use modern conveniences in this series, which is always a bonus. This has a subsequent benefit of making the writing of this story easier, due to the fact that the amount of research is greatly reduced (it allows for easier pricing of items, prevents the misuse of technology, etc…). But the main reason I chose to set this story, and its follow-up stories in the present is what is going to happen in the next story. But I'll talk about that in the next part of this note. Suffice it to say that everything in this series is set in this offset timeline, and this story is set in the present. It is not a mistake, it is completely purposeful. I know that the Harry Potter book series starts in 1991, I know that Harry was born, at least in canon, in 1980. I know all of that. However, for my purposes, he was born in 1995, and started Hogwarts in 2006.

Now, I did touch on the next story in this series. I don't want to talk about it too much, since part 2 of this series is the one I've done the least preparation for. However, I will say that, when I was designing this four-part series, I originally started with my long list of story ideas. Eventually, I realized that, with only a few minor changes (such as changing the era), I could tie them all together and make one larger story. However, one of the main tenets of this series is that it should be "pick up and read." In other words, one should be able to read any part of it and understand it, for the most part, without having read the other parts. Will there be references and common story threads? Absolutely. However, one thing I wanted to avoid, that I usually see here on FFnet, is that as subsequent parts of a series are posted, they receive fewer and fewer reviews. I believe this to be due to the increasing level of investment required to read each subsequent part. I wanted to avoid that. Therefore, the titles of these stories will not have numbers, or indicate that they are sequels. The only common thread will be the word "Time" in the title. In other words, this story is named "Stealing Time." Part two is called, at least right now, "Playing Time," and will be quite short (maybe a oneshot). Part three is named "Killing Time," and part four "Passing Time." Anyway, when I came up with the idea for "Playing Time," it required that the story be set in the modern day, even though Harry and friends are still in school. Therefore, when I made the move to create somewhat of a loosely connected series, all four stories moved to the modern era. One thing I will mention is that everything about the modern world is going to transfer over to this story. While that doesn't mean I'm going to talk about everything on Earth, it does mean that one very major…something, that doesn't exist in canon, will exist in this story, or at the very least, will play a large role in part two. I haven't decided yet if I'll mention it in passing in "Stealing Time." I'll leave it up to your imaginations to figure out what it is, however.

I wrote this long missive based on a long anonymous review I received for chapter 6. While I could just as easily have deleted it and ignored its contents, it was a very well written review, and I didn't think it deserved to simply be thrown away. I simply wanted to address its contents, which questioned the technology I had used so far.

Another thing I want to talk about is another review I received. One review asked if this was "Harry Potter as 'Oceans 11.'" I don't want to make that kind of comparison. I will say that this is a heist story, which many of you may have already assumed. I will also say that "Oceans 11" was part of the inspiration for this story. However, part of the inspiration came from my own trip to Las Vegas, as well as a number of other sources. The fact that this story is set in Las Vegas, involves a casino, and a group of people, are about the only things I intentionally included in this story that are similar to "Oceans 11." Well…there may be a few other bits in there as well, but that's still to come. If I'm perfectly honest, the working title for this story when it was a standalone story was "Potter's Eleven."

Well, I think I've rambled on for long enough here, so I'll leave you with my customary hint as to the title of the next chapter. Again, I do apologize for not doing an adequate job of hinting at this chapter's title. However, while there were many guesses as to the title of chapter 7, the title of chapter 8 was inadvertently guessed. So if you want to sift through the reviews, you'll find it there. Otherwise, keep reading:

**Chapter Title Hint:** In chapter 8, Harry will find himself visiting Malfoy's casino, so there will be some blackjack involved. It really is so easy, when you know the rules.

Anyway, I hope that hint suffices. I also hope you enjoyed chapter 7, and I do thank you for reading and making it through this long note; I just wanted to talk about a few things that I've missed so far. If you enjoyed this chapter, then please let me know in a review, and I'll see you soon with chapter 8.


	8. Play the Game

Chapter 8

**Play the Game**

_July 25, 2011_

_7:37 AM_

"Harry James Potter! If you don't get up in five minutes, so help me I'll levitate that sofa and dump you onto the floor!" Hermione yelled playfully as she walked back into the sitting room, trying for the third time that morning to wake Harry.

Cracking open his eyes, Harry blinked furiously to get used to the light streaming through the glass door next to him. Part of one of her previous attempts at waking him had involved opening the heavy curtains that had previously shielded the room from light. But still Harry had ignored her attempts, trying desperately to fall back asleep, but to no avail. Sitting up and letting the thin blanket slide down his chest, Harry stretched and yawned loudly, announcing that he was now awake.

"Took you long enough," Hermione complained from her position directly above Harry. "Honestly, I told you last night that we would be getting up early. You had plenty of time, but no! You just had to play on that blasted computer all night, didn't you? Thank Merlin for small favors that that thing won't work at Hogwarts, otherwise it would be a waste of my time trying to get you to study!"

"Oh, so that's what it all comes down to, eh?" Harry asked jokingly as he rose from the sofa into a sitting position against the back cushion. "Leave it to Hermione to make it all about studying. 'Books and cleverness,' as she says."

"That was just once and you know it!" she argued, planting her hands on her hips. It was apparent that she had been awake for a while already, due to the fact that she was already fully dressed in a pair of short jean shorts and baby blue tee. Her hair, however, was another story, as it cascaded down her back in its typical bushy fashion.

"I know, I know," Harry replied in his own defense. "It's just fun to get you riled up sometimes."

"Don't you go turning into Ron," she warned. "One of him is bad enough."

"Relax. There's no way I'll do that," Harry responded, easing Hermione's concerns. She sighed exaggeratedly in relief. "I don't think I could pull off the red hair, so no deal."

Hermione scowled playfully in response, causing Harry to laugh as he rose and searched through the drawers of the armoire for clothes for the day.

"Why didn't you pull out the sofa bed?" Hermione asked, finally realizing that the sofa was still in the same form it had been in the day before.

"Didn't have time," Harry said as he shrugged his shoulders, still hunched over the drawer.

"You mean you spent too much time on your computer and you decided it would take too much effort?"

"I can neither confirm nor deny your statement."

"Prat."

Harry jerked his head up and looked directly at her. "You called my name?"

Hermione waved him off and chuckled as she walked back into the bedroom. "Get ready," she called from the other room. "We've gotta go get breakfast before we head out."

"Do we have to?" Harry whined as he carried a pair of khaki cargo shorts and his new green polo into the second of the two bathrooms, which happened to be much smaller than the one off of the bedroom. Fifteen minutes later, Harry emerged from the bathroom, showered, shaved, dressed and feeling largely refreshed. He found Hermione sitting on the still intact sofa, her book on casino games perched in her lap.

"I thought you read that all on the flight yesterday?" Harry asked.

"I did," she replied, not looking up. "But I wanted to read it again."

"Why? What's the point if you've read it before?"

Hermione rolled her eyes as she looked up from her book. "And that question explains a great many things. Reading something more than once lets you remember it better. That's the whole theory behind studying."

"Okay….I get that. But I was talking about that book there. Why read _it_ again if you've read it before?"

"I was just brushing up, Harry. Remember, we are going to a casino today. It might be helpful to know something about how they work."

"True, but I really didn't peg you for someone who'd gamble. Especially when they're under the legal age here."

Hermione stuck her tongue out at him mockingly.

"Very mature," he laughed. "Now all we need are fart jokes and we'll have completed the circle."

She closed her book and rose from the cheap, velour sculpted sofa. "I honestly don't see how that thing was comfortable all night," she said as she put the book on the table. "I couldn't sit there for more than fifteen or twenty minutes without having to get up."

Harry shrugged his shoulders in response. "Guess I'm just used to an uncomfortable bed."

"Well you shouldn't be," she replied quietly. "And to answer your question," she added, raising her voice, "it never hurts to be prepared. You may not think I'd ever gamble, but that doesn't mean that the knowledge won't be helpful. What happens if you want to play a game there? I am assuming, of course, that you plan to."

"I would be negligent in my duties as a male if I didn't," he replied cheekily. "The first rule in the book of man laws is that if you see a casino, you are morally obligated to play at least one game of something."

"Boys and their Bond fantasies," she muttered as she finished putting on her sandals and made her way to the door.

"And besides," he continued, ignoring her statement, "I read about the game last night online. There's just so much stuff on that Internet that it's uncanny!"

"I can't believe you spent all night just reading about how to play blackjack," she mused. "Anyway, come on. We're supposed to have breakfast in Professor McG…I mean Minerva's room."

"Almost slip up there, Hermione?" Harry asked as they stepped into the hall.

"Shut up. You try calling a professor by their first name after using their title for so long!"

"Minerva. Minerva. Minerva. Minerva. See? I did it just fine," he goaded.

"You can be so childish sometimes," she said as she knocked on the door.

"Yes, but that's why you love me, right?" he asked in response as the door opened.

"You what?" Richard asked as he opened the door, catching only the last bit of the teens' conversation.

Hermione's head whirled around from facing Harry to her father. "Nothing," she answered quickly, not making eye contact.

"It didn't sound like nothing," Richard observed. "In fact, I distinctly heard Harry here asking if, and I quote, 'that's why you love' him. Is that right?"

Harry didn't answer, out of fear for his own safety, and instead looked at Hermione pleadingly.

"Well, you didn't exactly hear the entire conversation, daddy," she said finally. "We were just joking around and I told Harry that he was being childish. That's when he said what you heard."

"Uh huh," Richard grunted, unconvinced.

"Honestly, Richard," Ellen said, pushing her way beside him. "Is that any way to treat your own daughter? Now you two, come in. Minerva was insistent that we wait until you two showed up so that breakfast would still be hot when you got here." She moved Richard out of the way, opening the door wider to allow Harry and Hermione into the room.

While the two teens had not been in the transfiguration professor's room before, they were not surprised to find it laid out very similarly to their own. The furnishings, décor, and overall layout of the room were identical to theirs, as well as the other two rooms they had seen so far. Like the other rooms, every aspect of the room was neutrally decorated, from the dark, cream walls with white molding, to the brown berber carpet adorned with a diamond pattern, and was designed to appear sophisticated while remaining unimposing.

"Ah, there you are," Minerva said, coming out of the small kitchenette next to the door. "I was waiting for you two, since this'll give me the opportunity to show you something that I normally wouldn't show until sixth year at the earliest. Conjuration."

Sirius groaned from the sofa upon hearing that breakfast would involve learning, earning himself an elbow from Remus. "Shut it, Padfoot," Remus chided. "You had to learn it somewhere, and so do they."

"But I don't wanna go back to school!" Sirius whined in a childlike voice. "I don't wanna."

"There are a lot of things I know you don't want to do. But if you don't shut up now, I'll force you to do every single one of them," Remus threatened emptily, glaring at his best friend.

"Like what?" Sirius asked defiantly.

"Gentlemen!" Minerva bellowed, gaining their attention. "I hardly think that your pointless bickering is proving beneficial in any way. So shall we eat or do you want us to go hungry listening to you two quarrel?"

"No, Minerva," they replied in unison, cowering under her intimidating personality.

"Now Harry, Hermione," Minerva began, launching into a full lecture, "and of course your parents, there are those in the magical world who strongly believe that the best way to prepare food is through old-fashioned cooking."

"In other words, Molly," Sirius interjected.

"Not helping Mr. Black," Minerva said without looking at him. "But at any rate, she would be one of them. However, there are those of us who, when pressed for time, will use an alternate method of preparing food: conjuration. Of course, this requires great skill in both transfiguration and charms, as well as great mental discipline. In short, it is not something that should be attempted by a novice. Or Mr. Black here. That said, conjuration allows for quick meal preparation, as well as the ability to create dishes that would not otherwise be possible. For instance," she paused as she withdrew her wand from her purple muggle-style vest that accompanied an off-white long-sleeved shirt, "if we wanted a full English fry-up breakfast, all I would need to do is visualize it and perform the appropriate wand movements. Those are not important at this point, since there are too many to teach now. We'll cover those in class. For now, just be familiar with the concept."

"I thought summer meant we were supposed to get away from school," Harry muttered. Hermione shot him a glare before focusing her attention back on Minerva.

As Harry's attention wandered for that brief moment, Minerva completed her conjuration, leaving a large assortment of various breakfast foods on the counter. True to her word, she had provided the typical English fry-up breakfast, complete with bacon, eggs, fried mushrooms, toast, and sausage. Baked beans and hash browns were also included.

"Smashing!" Richard exclaimed, rushing over to examine the food. "Why didn't you show us that trick when you came to convince us to send Hermione to Hogwarts? Would've saved us the cost of an entire meal!"

"Yes, but would you have trusted food that simply appeared out of thin air?" Minerva asked. "I certainly wouldn't if I was in the same position you were in. Hence the reason I showed you what I did. Now, enough talking about theory. Let's eat before it gets cold."

"Great idea!" Richard agreed. "If this magic food tastes half as good as it smells, I think we're in for a real treat!" He grabbed a plate and made for the bacon.

"Watch the fat," Ellen warned her husband as began to pile the fatty meat onto his plate.

"But it tastes so good," he whined as he moved over to the sausage. "Bacon really needs to be considered a condiment. Then all would be right in the world."

"Agreed," Harry said as he moved up beside the older man, plate in hand.

"Ugh, boys," Hermione grunted.

"What?" Harry asked as he piled on the mushrooms and eggs.

"You can be so much like Ronald sometimes that it's uncanny."

"I think I'll take that as an insult," Harry replied, confused. "I think."

"Trust me," Ellen interjected, "it was an insult. At least I think it was based on the way she talks about that boy at home."

Harry's interest was piqued by this statement. "How's that?" he asked, as he sat down at the small circular table between the kitchen bar and the sitting room.

"Mum…" Hermione said warningly, but Ellen ignored her.

"Oh, she just tends to prattle on about how much of an insensitive sod that Weasel boy is."

"Weasley," Hermione corrected quietly, embarrassed at having her mother tell Harry about her summer behavior. She could not, however, tell if her mother had honestly mispronounced Ron's last name, or if she was simply insulting him.

"Yes, Weasley, whatever," Ellen said dismissively. "But he seems to be uncouth and inconsiderate towards others, if what Hermione says is anything to go by."

"Well, he is a good friend," Harry replied. "And it isn't all bad. But I will admit that he seems to get almost excited at the prospect of another argument with Hermione."

"And that's my point," Ellen concurred. "Arguing and bickering are not bases for a good relationship, friendly or otherwise. I'm just glad Hermione here didn't misinterpret his arguing for caring or sexual tension or some other nonsense like that. A good relationship is based on mutual trust and respect. Almost like the relationship you two have."

"Mum!" Hermione exclaimed.

"What?" her mother asked innocently. "I was just making an observation."

"It's true you know," Sirius added, having listened in on the entire conversation from the sofa on the far side of the room. "You two do have a good relationship that would be the basis for a healthy-"

"Not helping, Sirius," Harry interrupted.

"What're you talking about?" he asked. "I was just making an observation," he added, purposefully using the same words as Ellen. Sirius and Ellen shared a not-too-subtle wink at this.

"What're you two playing at?" Hermione asked with a groan.

"I have no idea what you mean, dear," Ellen replied in a sickeningly sweet tone.

"Oh, don't even bother trying to cover it up," Richard cut in. "We all know what you two are trying to do. Personally, I think it's barmy to try and you should just let it be."

"Well," Harry said loudly, attempting to end the conversation. "Shall we get going?" He glanced at the clock then to Hermione significantly. Fortunately for him, she caught onto what he was trying to do.

"Oh wow," she said, feigning surprise, "it's starting to get late. We've better get moving if we want to get to The Merlin and have enough time to do…whatever it is we want to do."

"What do you mean it's getting late?" Remus asked, sharing a smirk with Sirius. He too had caught on and was trying to make breakfast as uncomfortable for the teens as possible. "We've got plenty of time. Stay. Enjoy yourselves."

"Oh, but we have to remember how much time it takes to get down to the MGM, let alone how long it'll take to get all the way over to The Merlin," Harry rationalized, trying to prop up their excuse for leaving.

Hermione stood quickly. "Here mum," she said, seeing her mother's empty plate. "Lemme get that for you." Without waiting for a response, Hermione grabbed Ellen's plate and took it into the small kitchen to place in the sink. The remnants of breakfast still adorned the black granite counters, leaving precious little space to put the dishes besides in the sink.

"But what if I wasn't done yet?" Ellen asked playfully.

"Oh, mum," Hermione began, "don't you know that smaller, lighter meals are better for you, especially if you have them more frequently?" He bit her lip in anticipation of her mother's response. However, Ellen was not the person who replied to her statement.

"I, for one, agree," Minerva announced, rising and taking her plate to the sink as well. "You can just put them in the sink and I'll scourgify them later. Washing the dishes gives me something to do."

Hermione gave Minerva a thankful look as she mouthed a silent "Thank you." The older woman nodded in return, giving her star pupil a small smile.

"Oh, fine," Ellen grumbled as she rose from her seat. "But it's only just nine o'clock. Are you sure it isn't too early to go out?"

"Oh, I think the earlier we start the better," Hermione said quickly. "Everyone ready?"

"Wait, shouldn't we stay and talk about this?" Sirius asked. "I mean, there are so many variables to consider, like what we're gonna do when we get there, and how we're gonna get in there in the first place. Forgive me for saying so, but you two don't quite look like you're twenty one years old."

"Easy," Hermione replied. "Remember what Professor Snape said last night? The wards don't extend into the restrooms. Pretty typical, really. I can't imagine Malfoy operating any other way. He's doing just the bare minimum to stay within the confines of the law, while ensuring maximum returns for himself. Immoral, but not necessarily illegal."

"So you're saying we just waltz into there like we currently are?" Sirius balked. "Are you crazy? I'm a wanted man!"

"In Britain, yes," Minerva said, following Hermione's logic. "But this is an entirely different country. Yes, the casino is run by a British wizard, but that doesn't mean you'll be recognized. All we have to do is get to the restrooms and change our appearances there. Almost like magic," she finished with a rare joke.

"Har har," Sirius said. "Now there's a knee-slapper. Really split my sides there. I can't stop laughing that was so funny."

"Are you quite finished Mr. Black?" Minerva asked condescendingly.

"Yes," he replied sheepishly.

* * *

><p><em>July 25, 2011<em>

_9:48 AM_

"Can you believe them back there?" Hermione asked Harry as the pair trailed behind the adults. They had just entered the casino floor of the MGM Grand, and were making their way through it, following the overhead signage to one of the resort's exits.

"You mean how your mum and Sirius were acting?" Harry questioned in response.

"Yeah. It was like they were pushing us together. Not very subtle if you ask me."

"Yeah, talk about barmy," Harry chuckled nervously, not making eye contact with Hermione.

"Yeah," Hermione replied quietly.

Silence reigned for the next few moments as the two teens walked in awkward quietness, increasing their pace to catch up to the others. As they walked, the group passed the MGM's lion enclosure, which was surrounded by a large collection of onlookers, trying desperately to catch a glimpse of one of the African beasts. However, the two lions that could be seen appeared to be sleeping.

"You'd think they'd lose interest," Richard commented. "The things are sleeping, there isn't anything to see! So what's the point in standing there with your face pressed up against the glass?"

"That doesn't matter," Harry replied. "It's the concept of lions that gets people excited. I mean, I'd be over there with my face pressed against the glass too if I hadn't been to a zoo before. Granted, I found the snake exhibit more entertaining than the lion enclosure, but still…"

"I sense there's a story there," Ellen said.

"You have no idea," Harry replied cryptically.

"And I don't think we'll hear it," Ellen concluded.

"Maybe some other time," Harry said. "When we're not in such a…public place."

"Ah."

Having passed the lion enclosure, the group found themselves entering a large circular room, with a large part of the wall taken up by a series of large television screens, with rows of sofas in front of them.

"They even do sports betting?" Hermione asked, bewildered.

"Of course," her mother replied. "This is Vegas, you bet on everything."

"I guess," Hermione said, her attention still focused on the sports betting area. "But it still seems kinda-"

"Poker!" Richard exclaimed, interrupting her train of thought. He pointed at the circular enclosure at the center of the room. Labeled as the Poker Room, there were already a large number of players inside scattered among the various tables, despite the early hour.

"Yes Richard," Ellen replied patronizingly. "That's the poker room. And there are people playing poker inside of it. What did you expect?"

He didn't respond, but instead glared playfully at his wife as the group passed the poker room, still following the signs.

"Upstairs," Hermione said, pointing to the escalator with a sign that indicated that the exit was at its top.

"Funny," Remus mused as they rode the escalator, "I don't feel like I'm underground. Must've been so subtle I didn't notice us going down." Sirius, for his part, was gripping the side rails tightly, unsure about the muggle contraption.

"What's wrong, Sirius?" Harry taunted, "I thought you would've been used to moving stairs after spending seven years dealing with them."

"You know, kiddo, one of these days that tongue of yours is going to get you into trouble," Sirius retorted. But then his eyes brightened.

"Oh no," Remus complained, "I know that look. He's got a good prank lined up. Trust me; I've seen that look before."

"What?" Sirius asked innocently. "I wasn't planning anything. I was just going to say that tongues might not always get you into trouble. They can also get you into some very good places…if you know what I mean."

Harry blushed, but turned away quickly. "No, Sirius, I don't know what you mean." He glanced at Richard, who for his part was glaring at Sirius.

"And you don't need to know," Richard growled as they reached the resort's exit at the top of the escalator.

"One of these days, Harry," Sirius promised. "I'll give you a good talking-to about how things work."

"Mr. Black," Minerva began, "I do hope you mean about the workings of the world. No young man should ever deserve to be subjected to what I can only assume is your version of 'The Talk.' I don't think there is a person on Earth who's done anything horrible enough to deserve that."

"Oh Minerva, you wound me!" Sirius whined, clutching his chest.

The group emerged from the darkness of the MGM Grand casino and into the bright mid-morning sun of Las Vegas. Squinting, they took stock of their surroundings, and found themselves near the large golden statue of a lion that lay in front of the property.

"Now that's ironic," Harry commented. "I don't remember seeing that thing yesterday. Now it makes sense that they would have lions inside."

"It'll make even more sense when I show you _The Wizard of Oz_," Hermione replied as they approached the statue, which marked the corner of the intersection that was populated by four different resorts.

"That one looks interesting," Harry said as he pointed across the street at what appeared to be a scaled-down cityscape.

"That's New York New York," Hermione informed him. "And that's about all I know about it."

"What?" Harry gasped. "How's that possible?"

Hermione slapped him on his arm playfully. "Shut up!" she said with a giggle. "I'm not that bad! Besides, I haven't been inside of it, so I can't be expected to know everything about it."

"Yeah, but you knew everything about Hogwarts before being there, remember?"

"I hardly think there's a book called New York New York, A History," she retorted. "So don't go expecting me to know every last thing about it."

But Harry had stopped paying attention, as he looked at the property across from New York New York. "And that," he said, "looks like a bad knockoff of Hogwarts."

"Excalibur," Sirius read from the large sign out front. "How much do I not want to go in there? It looks like a child's amusement park!"

"Enough gawking you two," Ellen commanded. "Harry, you and Hermione wanted to get going, so let's get going. The Merlin isn't going to scout itself you know."

However, despite her urging, Harry continued to fall behind as he looked around in awe, eventually trailing a good distance behind the rest of the group. Seeing this, Ellen took advantage of the situation to do something she had been meaning to make time for all day.

Slowing down, Ellen waited for Hermione to catch up, then glanced behind them to make sure Harry was still out of earshot. "Alright, now that he can't hear us, we can talk," she said to her daughter as they met up.

"Not this again, mum," Hermione complained.

"Yes this again," Ellen retorted. "I just wanna have a talk about some things while we have a spare moment. You have no idea how much I fought for you to be able to room with Harry, so I think I deserve at least this conversation as a reward."

"Fine," her daughter groaned. "But we better make it quick, since we'll be there soon."

"Then I'll just ask this: how was your night?" Ellen gave Hermione a sinister smile as she awaited her answer.

"Fine," Hermione replied grumpily, keeping her gaze focused ahead. "I mean, Harry was up until all hours playing on that blasted computer of his, but could I honestly expect any different? It's his newest toy."

"Alright," Ellen continued slowly. "But how did it go over when he saw that there was only one bed?"

Now Hermione realized where this conversation was headed. She had had an inkling before, but the fact that her mother had stooped to the level of actually asking that question only confirmed her suspicions.

"Awkward," Hermione replied truthfully. "To say the least. He was adamant that he would be sleeping on the sofa, even after I reassured him that he wouldn't have to."

This surprised Ellen. "You told him he could sleep in the same bed as you?" she asked, flabbergasted.

"Well, not exactly," Hermione backtracked. "I just told him that he didn't have to sleep on the sofa."

"Hermione, to a boy, those two statements are one and the same. By telling him that he didn't have to sleep on the sofa, you were telling him to pretty much hop into bed with you. Was that really what you were wanting to advertise?"

Hermione's face was red with embarrassment. "I…wasn't trying to tell him that, no," she stuttered.

"But you do understand that that's what it must've sounded like to him, right?" Hermione nodded. "Hermione," Ellen continued, "I want you to be honest with me."

"Oh Merlin."

"I want to know how you truly feel about Harry."

"He's my best friend," Hermione replied quickly, as she looked behind them to see that Harry was still trailing behind.

"Bollocks. I mean, I know that he's your best friend. But I also know that you like him as more than that. The only thing is that I'm not sure whether you haven't realized it or if you're just denying it. Be honest with me; what is it?"

Hermione stared at her mother silently for a moment while she mulled over her response. For her part, Ellen maintained eye contact with her daughter expectantly, consciously keeping one eye out for eavesdroppers.

"Yes," Hermione finally replied diplomatically.

"Yes what?"

"If you're trying to get me to admit I fancy Harry, then yes, I do. Are you happy now?"

"Yes," Ellen replied smugly. "But I'm more happy for you than anything else. But I do want to know: did you know this when you asked us to let him come on holiday with us?"

"I…I don't know. Does it really matter anyway? You got me to admit it, so you've done your job. Now what do you want to do about it?"

"Don't get so testy," Ellen warned. "All I was doing was taking an interest in my daughter's life, that's all, so forgive me for that. I just-" However, whatever Ellen was going to say was interrupted by the fact that Sirius, Remus, Richard, and Minerva had stopped at a crosswalk. "Well, that's my cue," she announced, slowing down to buy a few extra seconds. "We'll talk about this later, alright? For now, this conversation never happened at all."

"Thank Merlin for small favors," Hermione sighed in relief.

"But that means I won't treat you any differently than before…" Ellen trailed off mischievously as she stopped with the others. A moment later, Harry caught up with the group, his eyes still wandering and taking in the sights of Las Vegas.

The group crossed Tropicana Avenue, heading to the west. They passed The Tropicana resort and casino, which was directly across the street from both the MGM as well as Excalibur, and continued walking. Reaching another intersection, this time with Reno Avenue, they crossed, finding themselves across the street from a large obsidian pyramid.

"Now that looks cool," Harry said in awe of The Luxor.

"Maybe later, Harry," Hermione responded, looking in the opposite direction. "Because there's a pressing matter to attend to, remember? And it's sitting right behind you."

Harry turned around as they continued to walk, only to be greeted by another breathtaking sight. Directly ahead, several hundred meters away, was yet another massive spectacle. Rising from the desert almost as a mirage, was large, sparkling, sapphire building. Taking on the appearance of a large blue crystal ball, the building looked to be an enormous reflective navy cylinder with a large sphere perched atop it. Floating eerily within the crystal ball, mystically enhanced by a swirling mist, were two simple words: "The Merlin."

"Now that looks like magic," Sirius commented as he saw the floating words in the crystal ball.

"Maybe," Hermione replied. "I mean, even though this place looks like a muggle casino, Professor Snape said that it has magical aspects as well. It's within reason that some of the effects here really are magical, since muggles will just think they look cool or are some form of special effect."

Sirius nodded, accepting her explanation as he continued to take in the sight of the resort.

Stretching out before the building, which was set back about two hundred meters from the street, was a long, straight, concrete path, lined on either side with large gardens filled with artificial grass and native desert plants. Fully grown palm trees bordered the gardens on the outside, enclosing the path slightly and lending an air of intimacy to the walkway. About halfway down the path, the concrete grew into a large circular pad, bordered once more by artificial grass. In the center of this circular pad rested a large, round reflecting pool. However, on either side of the circular pad, two stone sculptures of hands, each holding what appeared to be a great stone wand, shot an arching jet of water over the circular pad and into the pool. By all appearances, it looked as though the wands themselves were casting some sort of magic.

"That's impressive," Ellen commented in amazement as she took in the sight before her. From their vantage point near the street, they could see various resort patrons milling about outside, walking under the watery archways, and emerging with nary a drop of water on them.

"Eh, I'm sure they're just using a very specific water pressure to make it do that," Hermione said, sounding unimpressed.

"Or they could be using magic," Remus suggested. "Severus did say that they used some magic here."

"Snivellus, you mean," Sirius corrected. "Remember Remus, as a Marauder, you are morally obligated to call the sniveling, whining little bat 'Snivellus.'"

"Yeah, yeah," Remus replied. "But my point still stands."

"I don't think it really matters," Ellen said. "I still think it looks neat."

"Yep," Richard agreed, adding nothing to the conversation. Yet he led the way toward the fountain, passing underneath the stream on the left side. As soon as he did so, he stopped and swayed for a moment before turning around slowly. "I feel…weird all of a sudden," he said uncertainly, putting his hand on his forehead. "Maybe there was something magic about this that we don't know about."

Hermione rushed forward, under the stream, to check on her father. As she skidded to a stop, she looked around curiously before scowling. "What're you on about, daddy? I don't feel anything!"

Richard staggered slightly before responding. "I dunno. I just feel like something is…like there's this pressure in my mind…some kind of suggestion…almost like a…GAH!" He lunged at Hermione, who shrieked and jumped back.

Richard broke out in raucous laughter as he bent over and clutched his knees for support.

"Daddy!" Hermione yelled in anger, glaring at him.

"Sorry Hermione," Richard began between laughing fits. "I just couldn't help it. You were so convinced that there was nothing magical about this fountain that I had to do something."

"Richard," Ellen scolded, "that was neither funny nor appropriate. You scared the daylights out of your daughter! _Our_ daughter!"

Richard pulled Hermione into a one-armed hug. "Sorry Hermione," he said. "I just thought it would be fun to mess with somebody. Turns out that somebody was you. I'm sorry if I scared you though."

"Ugh," she grunted in response as she pulled away and strode purposefully toward the front door of The Merlin. The others picked up the pace to catch up, Harry jogging for a moment until he was next to Richard.

"You know," he began, "I thought it was kinda funny."

Richard smiled slightly at Harry. "Don't let her hear you say that, kid," he advised. "Sometimes it's best to hide things from women."

Harry snorted at his comment, but did not reply otherwise.

"I can definitely say that's true," Sirius opined from the other side of Richard as the approached the door.

"Well then, that certainly explains a lot," Harry said. "I mean, you haven't been able to hold down a steady relationship in…how long has it been Sirius?"

"Hey cub, don't you forget that I was stuck in that bloody prison for thirteen years, so you can't blame me for that. Besides, I'm still warming back up after that. But I will say I do have the whole 'fugitive' thing going for me. Women love bad boys."

"Yeah, you keep thinking that and let me know how it turns out, alright?" Harry responded snidely. "But don't blame me if I don't take your advice of follow in your footsteps. I think I'll do things my own way thank you very much."

"Your loss Harry."

Shaking his head but knowing full well that Sirius was only joking, Harry pulled the door open and stepped inside, following closely behind Hermione, Ellen, and Minerva, who had entered immediately ahead of him. As soon as he stepped inside, he was immediately overcome by a frigid blast from the resort's air conditioner, followed by the strong scent of air freshener as it wafted past him. Recalling the information imparted by Snape, Harry quickly remembered that it was not a perfume that he was smelling, but a vaporized anti-polyjuice potion. But once he had got past the initial smell, which seemed stronger than the one present at the MGM Grand, he took stock of his surroundings.

The group had entered a large, half-moon shaped reception area with the entire far wall taken up by a massive check-in desk. Deep blue marble tile covered the floor as the dark, cream-colored walls contrasted nicely with the gold chair rail and gold accented recesses. Bright white pillars seemed to be embedded in the walls at regular intervals, adding a sense of regality to the room. A large gold statue rose up from the center of the room, depicting a cloaked, hooded figure with a beard, hands apart as though conjuring a ball between them. Between the hands, a cloud of thick, pulsating smoke could be seen, rippling and changing shape constantly.

"Not bad," Harry commented to nobody in particular as he took in their surroundings.

"Not bad?" Sirius balked. "The place looks like a bloody palace. How do you get off saying 'not bad?'"

Harry shrugged. "I don't really have much to compare it to, do I? I've only been in the MGM, and that looked pretty neat too, so I can't compare it to much. Maybe if we went and visited every other casino on the Strip, then I'll be able to make a better judgment. But for now…"

"Alright, enough of that you two," Hermione interrupted, breaking off their conversation. "Honestly, can't you two have a real conversation instead of flinging insults at each other?"

"Well," Sirius began, "we have had a couple of normal conversations lately. Oddly enough though, they all tend to focus on the same subject." Harry glared at Sirius in an attempt to shut him up as the Marauder eyed Hermione. The older man, not wanting to push his luck any further, wisely complied with Harry's wishes.

Seeing the look that they exchanged, Hermione did not press the subject any further. Instead, she glanced around the lobby, to find that, on either side of the half-moon shaped room, there was a large opening onto the casino floor.

"Where's the hotel itself?" she asked.

"I'm willing to wager that it's on the other side of the casino," her mother responded. "That way they can take advantage of everyone on the way to their rooms. From the looks of it," she added, as she peered into the casino, "the entire first floor of this place is the casino. I think that big crystal ball-thing we saw is the hotel itself, and the base is the casino and everything else like restaurants."

"Leave it to Malfoy to have a massive casino," Harry muttered as they made their way into the casino itself.

As they entered, they found that Ellen was, in fact, correct. The casino was, in essence, a large circle, with a small section near them blocked by a wall, which they now knew separated the casino from the lobby. To their left, they could see that the section of the wall closest to them was taken up by the cashier's cage, protected by gold bars that matched the accents on the walls. The overall décor of the casino was not drastically different from the lobby, with the exception of the fact that the blue marble floor had been replaced with similarly colored carpet. The only other difference was the lack of windows in the casino, creating a much darker atmosphere from the lobby.

Scattered about the casino floor were various pods of slot machines, but these tended to be clustered more toward the outside of the casino, almost like a concentric circle, mimicking the shape of the building. Within this ring of slot machines, several dozen tables could be seen, many of which were staffed by dealers who were occupied by a smattering of customers. These tables were, in general, arranged in groups of four, but were overall organized in a circle. At the very center of the casino they could see a low, circular wall that appeared to be similar to the one they had seen framing the poker room at the MGM. Harry could only assume that that was the case here as well.

"Where's the restroom?" Harry asked finally, scouring the room with his eyes, searching for a sign.

"Did you try right behind us?" Sirius asked, causing Harry to spin around, only to find a pair of hallways near the lobby, each of which with a sign to indicate the appropriate gender.

"Oh," Harry said pathetically, looking away in embarrassment.

"It's alright, Harry," Hermione said reassuringly, stepping up beside him. "You don't need to be embarrassed for not seeing the restroom. You should only be embarrassed if you couldn't find it _in time_." She chuckled at her own joke quietly, causing Ellen to chuckle as well.

"Sorry, Hermione," she said between laughs, "I'm not laughing with you, I'm laughing at you. You were the only one who laughed at that joke, which in and of itself was funny."

Hermione planted her hands on her hips and stared at the others. "Why is it that everyone else can make jokes that seem funny but I can't?" she asked.

"You just need practice dear," Ellen replied.

"Trust me," Sirius added, "by the time you've spent a week with Remus and I, you won't be able to look at anything in the world without making a crude joke."

"I'm not sure that's something to brag about," Richard said. "Maybe I should just get our return tickets now and forget about this whole thing."

"Or maybe not," Ellen answered for the others. "Honestly Richard, that wasn't funny either. Now, nobody make another joke for a while. I don't want us to get on a streak of bad or unfunny jokes, is that understood?"

She received uncertain nods from the others as she grinned in smug satisfaction. "Now," she continued, "I believe there was a reason we were looking for the restroom, right?"

Harry nodded in confirmation, not explicitly mentioning the fact that they were going to use the restrooms to change their appearances. The group split, with Minerva leading Hermione and Ellen into the women's restroom, while Harry, Sirius, Remus, and Richard entered the men's side.

"I didn't realize it would take all four of us to do this," Harry stated as they entered and found the restroom empty. "I mean, I thought I was toilet trained. I don't think I need this much supervision."

"Well aren't you just the veritable comedian lately, Harry?" Sirius observed. "Almost like you're trying to impress someone. But I've got news for you kiddo: she's not in here right now. So you can lay off the sarcastic jokes."

Harry stuck his tongue out at Sirius briefly in response.

"Now that's mature," his godfather said. "Well, we'd better get this over with before Harry here starts acting even younger. Maybe if we make him look older, he'll act older. Moony, would you do the honors?"

"With pleasure," the werewolf replied. "Now hold still Harry, otherwise I'm liable to transfigure into someone without any arms or something."

"That could be cool!" Harry said enthusiastically. "Then nobody would recognize me!"

"You also wouldn't be able to cast anything, so I would bin that idea now."

"Good point. Now get on with it Remus, I'm waiting. "I'm sure Minerva's done with Hermione by now."

"Yeah, yeah. But she does this for a living, so I wouldn't complain if I were you."

Remus pulled his wand out from the inside of his button-down floral-print shirt before pressing it against his chin in thought as he looked at Harry carefully. A few moments and several flicks of his wand later, Remus stood back and examined Harry once more.

"Looks good to me," Sirius commented.

"Sometimes I wonder about you lot," Richard muttered, having watched as Remus transformed Harry's appearance.

"Can I look in a mirror now?" Harry asked, still standing perfectly still.

"No, you aren't allowed to move. Ever," Sirius informed him, speaking for Remus.

"Nice try Sirius," Harry retorted as he made a move toward the large bank of mirrors that covered an entire wall. As he caught the first glimpse of his new self, Harry had to do a double-take. He now looked to be about two inches taller, and looked to have put one about an extra stone in weight, despite the fact that his cheekbones now seemed to be sharper. Even though his eyesight had not changed, he could no longer see his glasses, which Harry assumed Remus had disillusioned. His hair was now much shorter and dusty brown in color, and about two days worth of matching facial hair gave him a somewhat scraggly appearance. All told, Harry now appeared to be in his early twenties, just old enough to grant him legal access to the casino.

"Just one last thing to do," Remus announced. "I just need your passport, Harry. The muggle one."

"Right!" Harry exclaimed, snapping his fingers in remembrance. He pulled out the muggle passport from his pocket and handed it to Remus, who handed it back after another flick of his wand.

"There. Now you're legally over twenty one years old, at least in the muggle world," he said. "So you'll have to use that for your identification whenever you're asked. Now let's go see what Minerva cooked up."

"Wait," Harry interrupted, "what about you three? You can't expect to wander around a casino run by Death Eaters without being recognized, at least you two, Sirius and Remus, can't."

Sirius shrugged. "Might as well throw him a bone, eh Moony? I always do find it fun to try out a new appearance every now and then. Gives a bit of spice to life if I do say so myself."

"Whatever you say Padfoot," Remus granted skeptically as he took aim with his wand once more. A moment later, Sirius sported very short spiked black hair and was clean-shaven, making him appear to be no more than twenty five years old. Having turned his wand on himself, Remus now had a neatly trimmed goatee and narrow glasses, his clothes changed to a simple brown button-down shirt and slacks.

"Too big of a change will make it hard to remember if I ever need to do this again," Remus explained. "Now can we go see the others?" He received nods in response.

Remus led the way out of the restroom, having only spent less than two minutes inside, to find the three women standing outside waiting. Harry immediately recognized Minerva, whose hair had been lengthened and darkened into a sea of chestnut locks, similar to Hermione's normal hair, and Ellen, whose appearance had not changed. In addition to the changes in her hair, Minerva's face appeared to be about twenty years younger, sporting fewer wrinkles and changing her appearance dramatically.

Hermione, however, was with whom the biggest changes lay. Her hair, which normally reached down to the middle of her back, had been shortened dramatically, now only reaching her shoulders. It also appeared to be silkier, lacking the traditional bushiness that Harry, as well as the entire population of Hogwarts, had come to expect of her. The color too, had been darkened to a very dark shade of brown. Deviating from the theme of the color brown, Hermione's eyes had been changed from their normal color to a deep blue. Her face had been shortened somewhat, losing its slightly elongated appearance in favor of a rounder form.

"Looking good Harry," she commented as he walked out of the restroom, finishing with a wolf whistle.

"Thanks," he replied sheepishly. "And may I say that you're really killing that look yourself?"

"Well thank you good sir," she responded with mock seriousness. "I do think that the stubble is a nice touch too. The only problem is that these looks are temporary. We'll have to manually apply them every time we come in here from now on."

"Well, not necessarily," Minerva corrected. "I mean yes, you will have to undergo some form of transfiguration in order to disguise yourself, but it won't necessarily have to be _this_ one. You can have whatever appearance you'd like, depending on the occasion. The new names, however, could probably stay."

"What'd you get?" Hermione asked Harry, referring to his new name.

He opened his passport, having not looked at it since it was changed, to find that he had retained his first name. However, his last name had been changed. "Harry Everton," he grimaced, not liking his new last name. "How about you?"

"Hannah Gordon," Hermione replied simply.

"Sorry, Hermione, but you don't really look like a Hannah. No offense or anything."

"Sure, whatever," she responded sarcastically. "But look at it this way: we can change our disguises, so maybe next time I'll look like a Hannah."

"We'll just have to wait and see," Harry said. "But now what? I'm sorry to say I have no idea what to do next. What're we here to accomplish today?"

"And here I thought that you and Hermione had some grand plan for what to do when you tried to rush us out this morning," Richard teased.

"Don't look at me like I'm the one who's supposed to come up with everything!" Harry protested. "I'm only fifteen…almost sixteen for Merlin's sake!"

"Um, Harry," Hermione began, "you might wanna watch the use of the word 'Merlin.' We don't wanna attract attention."

"True," he admitted, "but remember, that is the name of the hotel, so it might not be too out of place."

"And exactly how often do you expect muggles to go around swearing in the name of Merlin?" she pointed out. "Just something to consider. But anyway, since you asked, I think we should at least take a look around and see what we can find out. I don't think we'll be able to see anything behind the scenes, but at the very least we can see what security is like here just in case we do need to get into the back at some point."

"That's my daughter," Richard announced proudly, "always coming up with the brilliant solutions to every problem. She gets it from me, you know."

"Sometimes it's really difficult to see though," Ellen retorted.

"We're not just gonna wander around as a big group are we? That'd attract too much attention, wouldn't it?" Harry asked.

"Yep," Sirius responded. "Which is why I'm gonna park myself at one of those slot machines over there and have at it. Oh, and I'll keep an eye out for anything worthwhile too." He took off toward the nearest bank of slot machines, keen on fulfilling his plan.

"I never should have explained slot machines this morning," Richard complained. Harry and Hermione shared a glance, not remembering that conversation. But they concluded that it had transpired before they had arrived for breakfast.

"Oh well then," Harry said. "I'll just be over here at one of these tables, trying desperately not to lose too much money. I'll let you know if I find anything."

"Alone, Harry?" Hermione asked uncertainly. "Are you sure about this?"

"Remember, I spent all night on my computer, reading up on casino games, among other things. Blackjack seemed simple enough, so I should be able to hold my own on that."

"If you're sure…" she trailed off.

"I am," he replied confidently as he left the group and strode toward the nearest blackjack table.

* * *

><p><em>July 25, 2011<em>

_11:09 AM_

As Harry approached the various tables, he noticed that each table had a small sign on it, denoting the minimum bet that must be placed at that table, as well as the game that could be played there. However, Harry wasn't paying too much attention to that, and was instead more concerned with finding a table with a good vantage point of a door off of the casino floor.

Finally, after a few moments of wandering around, Harry finally saw an empty blackjack table with a good view of a door to the back of the house. The fact that the minimum bet at the table was only ten dollars was an extra bonus. Head down, Harry took a seat on one of the stools surrounding the table and examined the table closely.

"Can I see your I.D.?" a voice asked in a deep southern American accent, startling Harry out of his observation.

Harry looked up, getting a good look at the dealer for the first time. The first thing he noticed were the kind, blue, aged eyes of his dealer, before Harry took in the rest of his appearance. The dealer was a portly older man, perhaps in his late sixties, with pure white hair and a neat white mustache. His full head of hair was combed over smartly, belying the care the older man took in his appearance. His deep blue eyes examined Harry carefully from behind his round, wire-framed spectacles, sizing up Harry and his age.

"Sure," Harry answered tentatively, reaching into his pocket for his British passport. He handed it to the dealer. "Here you go…" he searched the man's uniform for his name, and finally found it. "Al from Mobile, Al."

"That's Alabama, son," Al corrected as he examined Harry's modified passport. "Sorry, Harry," he amended. "Not from around here, are ya Harry?" he asked as he handed the passport back to Harry.

"Nope," Harry replied. "You know, normally I wouldn't talk to strangers," he began, eliciting a snort from Al, "but in this case I'll make an exception."

"Excellent!" Al declared. "So you wanna play or what? Or lemme put this another way: have you ever played blackjack before?"

Harry shook his head in the negative. "Nope, but I kinda have an idea about the game. So how do I start?"

Al gave Harry a patronizing smile. "Well, how much do you wanna play? You have to decide on that first, and then we can start. Once you're ready, just hand me however much you wanna play with and I'll give you the chips."

Harry nodded in acceptance of those instructions before pulling out his wallet. He fingered through the bills inside for a moment before pulling out a fifty dollar bill and placing it on the table. Al quirked an eyebrow slightly before sliding the bill towards himself and slipping it into a small slot in the table. He then issued Harry fifty dollars in chips.

"Now, the first thing you need to do is place your bet. The minimum at this table is ten dollars, and the maximum is ten thousand. But I don't really think we'll have a problem with that part. You put the chips you want to bet here," he said, tapping a spot on the table reserved for chips that had been bet. "Then I'll deal. But first you need to bet."

Harry pondered his bet for a moment before settling on the minimum of ten dollars. He placed a ten dollar chip in the small white box that was painted onto the table and waited.

"Great!" Al said. "Now, depending on where you play, there are different rules for blackjack. Here, at least, you can touch the cards, since I'm dealing from a single deck. At most other properties, you can't since they use a shoe, and as a result, the dealer will place all of the cards face up. But since you can touch the cards here, we let you hold them and keep them face down. Understand?"

Harry nodded, understanding completely. It wasn't too difficult to understand.

"So let's get started, shall we?" Al asked as he began to deal. He dealt a card to Harry and then to himself, before repeating, this time dealing face up. Harry peeked at his overturned card to find that it was the eight of clubs which, added to his king of hearts, would equal eighteen.

"Um, stay," he decided.

Al nodded before flipping his card over to reveal that he had been dealt a pair of tens. He pulled Harry's bet towards him and placed it in his rack of chips as Harry pushed forward another ten dollars for another hand.

"Do you know about the hand signals, Harry?" Al asked, earning a shake of his customer's head in response. "To stay, for example, you could just wave your hand just above the table like this." Al demonstrated the traditional hand motion. "For a hit, you could scratch the table with the tip of your fingers, like this." He then showed Harry that signal as well. "Those are two of the basic ones. You don't really have to use them, but I see enough beginners use them just to impress people, so I thought I'd pass them along."

As Al dealt for the second time, Harry began to look around the casino floor, paying close attention to the door on the wall behind Al. Just as Al finished dealing, Harry noticed a resort employee slide a card, which was attached to their waist via a small cord, through a card reader next to the door. They then pulled the door open and disappeared.

"Harry?" Al asked, disturbing Harry from his observations. He nodded toward the table, reminding Harry of the game at hand.

"Oh, right," Harry replied sheepishly. "Sorry, I got distracted for a minute."

"It's alright, happens all the time," Al reassured him.

Harry glanced down at his cards once more to find a three and a queen, giving him a total of thirteen.

"Hit me," he said, using the terms he remembered from his online research.

With a nod, Al slid another card over to Harry, this time, a seven, giving Harry a total of twenty.

"Stay," he announced more confidently than last hand. Al, for his part, flipped his overturned card over to find that he had a total of fourteen between his two cards. Dealing himself another card, Al found himself with an eight, giving himself a total of twenty-two.

After collecting the cards, Al pulled a ten dollar chip out of his rack and gave it to Harry, who left his initial ten dollars on the table for the next hand.

Harry's luck continued in this fashion for the next several hands, with him losing some and winning some games. However, his attention was not entirely on the game itself, but on the background operations of the casino. On occasion, he could see a navy clad security guard wander the floor of the casino, sometimes using the door behind Al to leave the floor. Along the ceiling, Harry could see numerous security cameras, strategically positioned above every set of tables and slot machines.

Finally, amidst his distraction, Harry noticed that he had reached his final chip. He looked up at Al who was waiting for his bet patiently, shuffling the deck idly. Lacking hesitation due to the amount of money still left in his wallet, Harry pushed his final chip forward into the white box and waited for Al to deal.

As soon as Al dealt, Harry noticed that he had been dealt a jack in addition to his overturned card. Tentatively flipping it over, he found it to be an ace, giving him a blackjack. Al noticed this and nodded.

"Look like your luck might be turnin' around," he said as he handed Harry fifteen dollars in chips. Al slid the winnings over to Harry, pushing his initial bet out of the box.

Deciding to leave things as they were, Harry pulled the ten dollar chip back along with the extra five dollars, and played the ten dollar chip he had won, having completely forgotten that the Internet had suggested that he tip the dealer when he received a blackjack. The next hand, however, he busted, losing the ten dollars he had won before.

Once again, Harry put forward the original ten dollar chip, and once again, he won the hand with an instant blackjack.

"Looks like that might be your lucky chip, Harry," Al said as he paid out Harry's winnings. "So, are you here for vacation or what? I noticed you had some funny British accent and all."

Harry nodded as Al dealt again, having bet his 'lucky chip' once more. "Yeah, I'm here with some friends and family on a little holiday. We were originally going to Florida, but changed to here at the last minute."

"Oh? Why's that?" Al asked as Harry looked at his cards.

"My friend's dad always wanted to come here, so we just made the change. Hit me."

Al did as Harry requested, dealing Harry the five of diamonds, brining Harry's total to nineteen.

"Stay," he said, satisfied with his total. This time, however, he employed the hand motion that Al had taught him, in addition to verbalizing his decision.

Al flipped his cards over to see an ace and a four. Al dealt himself another card, this time the six of hearts, giving himself an even twenty-one.

"Ah, tough luck Harry," he sympathized as he collected Harry's chip from the table. "How's about one more hand to see if you can win back your lucky chip?"

Harry shrugged and pushed forward the two five dollar chips he had won from his two blackjacks. Dealing one more time, Al gave Harry a pair of nines, for a total of eighteen. Even though he felt that his total was not high enough to ensure a win, Harry knew that the odds were against him if he requested another card.

"Stay," he said, waving off any additional cards.

With a nod, Al examined his own cards carefully. "Looks like your lucky chip doesn't want to leave you, Harry," he announced, flipping his cards over to reveal an eight and a nine for a total of seventeen. After collecting the cards, he pulled the same ten dollar chip that had won a few games for Harry out of the rack and twirled it around in his fingers for a moment playfully. Finally, he handed it to Harry. "Here ya go, sport," he said.

Harry took the chip and stood from the table. "You know, I think I'm gonna call it quits before I lose everything," he stated.

"Your call, Harry," Al said understandingly. "If you wanna cash in those chips, you can go over to the cashier's cage over there." He motioned to the cage that Harry had seen when he entered the casino. "But you know what? I almost think you should hold onto your lucky chip. After all, it is lucky, remember? You never know what it'll come in handy."

Harry looked at him skeptically, but nodded all the same as he pocketed both the 'lucky chip' and the pair of five dollar chips as well.

As he did so, Al pulled a well worn, ornate silver pocket watch from the pocket on his burgundy vest and looked at it. "Perfect timing anyway," he said. "It's about time for my break." He put the watch back in his pocket and moved to lock the rack of chips on the table.

"That's a nice watch," Harry commented honestly.

"Thanks Harry. It was actually a Christmas gift from my father-in-law years ago. Well, actually, he wasn't my father-in-law at the time, which made the gift even more special. He said it was his grandfather's, which really made it mean a lot that he trusted me with it, considering the fact that I wasn't even married to his daughter. In fact, he hardly even knew me at the time."

"How long ago was that?" Harry asked.

"Oh, gosh Harry," Al began. "I don't even want to think about when he gave it to me. Once you get old enough, everything blurs together, so it's not even worth thinking about. For me, time has taken on a completely different meaning as a result."

Harry nodded in understanding as he pushed the stool back into the table.

"Anyway, have fun on your trip, Harry," Al said sincerely. "And maybe I'll see you around, alright?"

Harry nodded once more as he turned and left the table, hands in his pockets fingering the chips he had won. However, as he played with the chips, he felt something off. One of the chips felt slightly different from the others. He pulled out all three in one handful and examined them closely as he walked toward the cashier's cage. Initially, the chips all looked identical, albeit with two of them being of one color and the third of another to denote their worth. He slowly took each one into his free hand to look at it more closely, only to find that the two five dollar chips were completely normal. So he placed them into his other front pocket before examining the final chip, his 'lucky chip.'

Upon first inspection, he could not see anything out of the ordinary with this chip. However, as he flipped it over, he found out what felt so different. Attached to the underside of the chip was a small, tightly folded square piece of paper.

Peeling the paper away and tucking the chip into his pocket with the others, Harry unfolded the paper to find a single word written upon it.

"Horcrux," he muttered, reading the word aloud.

Despite the word meaning nothing to him, he folded the note back up and put it in his pocket as he scanned the casino floor for the others. Almost immediately, his eyes spotted Minerva McGonagall, who was only a few meters away on a slot machine. Harry hurried over to her and waited a moment for her to finish her current spin.

After watching her win nothing, Harry cleared his throat audibly, gaining her attention.

"Yes, Harry?" she asked, looking up from the screen.

"Um," he began, scratching the back of his head. "I just finished playing blackjack and was taking my chips over to cash them out when I found a note stuck to the back of one of the chips."

"And?" she asked expectantly.

"Well," he started, fishing around in his pocket for the paper for a moment before finally finding it. "Here, you can read it for yourself." He handed the paper over to his professor and waited for her to read it.

Minerva unfolded the paper and scanned it quickly. As she finished, the color instantly drained from her face.

"What?" Harry asked. "What is it?"

Minerva quickly stood from her seat and checked to make sure she had not left anything behind. "I can't be certain," she said. "I have no idea what this has to do with anything we're doing here, but I will say this: whenever this word is involved, there is great evil afoot."

"Huh?"

"Come on," she said urgently, "let's find the others. If this has anything to do with why we're here, then we may have a bigger problem than we originally thought."

End of Chapter 8

A/N: And so ends chapter 8. Now, I know many of you, if not most of you, knew from the very beginning that the object in question in this story would be a horcrux. I really didn't make any secret of that fact, as most of us know canon and could figure it out easily. The characters in the story, however, had no idea what the object could have been, hence the reveal in this chapter. The source of this nugget of information will be dealt with in the next chapter, as the group investigates the possibility that the object they are looking for is really a horcrux. I do want to talk briefly about horcruxes here, however. I'm not a big fan of them in general. I made what I now consider to be a mistake when I included them in The Divine Plan, due to the fact that it can get quite messy trying to keep track of them all, especially for a novice writer. I won't make that same mistake again. In my view, horcruxes exist mainly as the Macguffin for the seventh book, and serve as little else. Granted, all stories need a Macguffin, or plot device, but I think it was taken a bit far in DH. As a result, while I am using a horcrux as a major plot device in this story, there will not be seven of them in this universe. Outside of the diary, which was destroyed before this story, and the one I'm using in this story, I will not include any further horcruxes. I don't really subscribe to the idea that Harry was a horcrux, at least in this story. There are too many plot holes for it to make sense for me, at least with the information given in canon. That is, of course, my opinion. However, I do have a story idea (that I may use in the future) that requires that Harry is a horcrux. So I won't rule out that possibility in the future.

Another thing I want to mention is the concept of the plot twist, or lack thereof. There may be some elements of this story (actually, there will be and have been), that I may not explicitly reveal, but are obvious to some readers. The horcrux issue is an example of this. Another example of this occurs in this chapter. I will not say what it is, for those readers who may not have guessed it, but I am making no attempt at hiding some elements of the story. In fact, it may be more rewarding in the long run for some readers to guess at the various 'hidden' elements, as they are slowly revealed throughout the series.

Also, I want to reiterate the fact that this story is taking place over a very short time. The bulk of this story is only a few days long. That is not enough time, in my opinion, for Harry and Hermione to quickly change their relationship before the end of the story. But fear not, Harmony fans, there will be a payoff at the end of the story, as well as little moments scattered around during the course of the story.

I also want to mention that, like all other authors, I am not perfect. There will be things that I do not notice or think of while writing the story. Reviewers, on the other hand, have a different perspective of the story, and can sometimes come up with new ideas for the story. I do not begrudge this fact, and have welcomed it in the past by changing some points in the story. However, I did want to point that out. I also want to ask about redundancy. I read every review for my stories, and reply to as many as I can, in an attempt to improve my writing. One review mentioned that my writing can sometimes include redundancies. This is the kind of constructive criticism I welcome. However, I am unaware of where these redundancies may occur, so I am asking for your help. If you notice any, please let me know so that I can work to avoid them in the future.

**Chapter Title Hint:** Now that we know that the main plot driver of this story is a horcrux, the characters are going to have to discuss it in the next chapter. As a result, the title of the next chapter will reflect this fact. The only hint I'll provide is this: what is the main purpose of a horcrux? What is it intended to do? Search for a Queen song that deals with this topic, and you'll have found the title of chapter 9.

I just want to offer congratulations to the following reviewers for correctly guessing the title of this chapter: Imagine-Unique-Name-Here, pfeil, acam, luvsanime02, and GodricG89. Excellent work, all of you!

Thank you again for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the most recent installment of Stealing Time. If you did, please let me, and the rest of the world, know by posting a review. I'll see you again soon with chapter 9.


	9. Who Wants to Live Forever

Chapter 9

**Who Wants to Live Forever?**

_July 25, 2011_

_12:10 PM_

"What's so important that we had to rush back here?" Richard asked as he closed the door to Minerva McGonagall's hotel room, effectively sealing the entire group inside and ensuring their privacy. Minerva had refused to answer any questions on the trip back to The Signature, instead only urging the others to leave The Merlin without an explanation. However, as he finished speaking, there was a knock at the door.

"That would be Severus," Minerva explained. "I sent him a patronus telling him he needed to join us. Mr. Granger, if you'd be so kind?"

Richard nodded and answered the door to allow the ebony-clad potions professor into the room, before closing the door once again behind him.

"Now," Snape began, "I am curious what the emergency is. All I was told was that I had to come here immediately." He remained standing as Richard sat on the sofa next to his wife.

"I do apologize, Severus," Minerva said impatiently. "I simply deemed it irresponsible to mention the situation in my patronus. But I'll let Harry here explain what happened."

"Merlin help us," Snape muttered as he turned his attention to Harry.

"Anyway," Harry began, ignoring Snape's comment, "I was playing blackjack at one of the tables, as you all know," he nodded to everyone beside Snape, "and watching parts of the casino floor to sort of get a lay of the land. I wasn't paying too much attention to the game, instead I was focusing on other things, such as security measures. Anyway, I kept playing, winning here and losing there. Eventually, I got down to my last two chips and won, winning back a chip that the dealer had called my 'lucky chip,' since I tended to win whenever I bet it. I decided to call it quits at that point and left the table. As I left, the dealer, Al, told me that since it was my lucky chip, I might not want to cash it in, but instead hold onto it. He said that I couldn't be sure when it'd come in handy again. So as I was leaving, I realized that one of the chips in my pocket felt different. I looked at my 'lucky chip' and found a piece of paper stuck to it. I opened it up to find a single word: horcrux."

"And that's why I called you here, Severus," Minerva said. "If this is true, this is no longer a trivial matter to say the least."

"What's the big deal about this horcrux thing?" Harry asked. "What is it, anyway?" He glanced at Hermione, who shrugged. "You mean you don't know either?" he asked her.

"I haven't seen the word come up in any of my readings," she replied.

"And for good reason, Hermione," Minerva explained. "Any writings about horcruxes have been made illegal by the Ministry. While you may be able to find some sparse information in one of those shady bookstores in Knockturn Alley, most of the more reputable writings have been confiscated and stored in the Department of Mysteries, only to be seen by the Unspeakables."

"Alright…" Hermione began, "so what are they?"

Minerva turned to Snape. "Severus, perhaps you would be the better choice to explain them. You are, after all, better versed in the Dark Arts than I."

Snape nodded and crossed his arms as he leaned against the wall. "A horcrux is, for lack of a better term, the key to immortality. But, like drinking the blood of a unicorn, this immortality is only a pale shadow of traditional life. In essence, in order to create a horcrux, a witch or wizard must commit the most evil act possible: murder. Then, through a sadistic ritual at the scene of the murder, they are able to split their own soul and store it inside of a vessel of some sort. Potter, you may remember that diary of the Dark Lord's during your second year? I am confident, as is the Headmaster, that that was a horcrux. By destroying it, you inadvertently destroyed a piece of his soul, thereby removing one strand that had tenuously connected him to immortality."

"Well that's just great," Harry muttered. "So we have another one on our hands here then?"

"Not necessarily, Potter," Snape sneered. "While I do not know of this 'Al' of whom you spoke, I can already surmise that his credibility is dubious at best. I know your impetuous Gryffindor personality would love to jump to conclusions without first considering the ramifications, however that would not be in our best interests."

"What can we do then?" Sirius asked. "If there really is any truth to this, the new can't let the thing sit there! We have to do something about it!"

"While normally I would jump at the chance to disagree with Black here," Snape began, "he is correct. However, we have no proof that this note is correct, or that it is even referring to the object being stored in the vault of The Merlin. It is completely possible that this note was meant for an entirely different purpose, or was meant as either a decoy or a trap. We cannot be certain. All we know for sure is that this 'Al' was working in a casino operated by Lucius Malfoy. Therefore, his credibility is already in question."

"Then how can we be certain?" Harry asked.

"Only Malfoy would know for certain," Minerva interjected. "Severus, can you force the information out of him?"

Snape gave her a rare smile, albeit a sadistic one. "Minerva, I don't believe that having me force information out of him would be the most…productive option. He would be little more than a mental vegetable when I was through with him. However, I might be able to get more information out of him by other means."

"You know what I meant Severus Snape," Minerva said sarcastically. "So tell me, can you do it?"

Snape nodded curtly without speaking.

"I will say this," Minerva continued, "it does make sense for all of this to actually be the case. Think about it. What would be the first thing that _you_ would hide if you thought somebody could read your mind?" She didn't wait for an answer. "Of course it would be a piece of your soul. Granted, we have no evidence that You-Know-Who is utilizing another horcrux, but the point still stands."

"So then what happens if it turns out to be real?" Hermione asked.

"Simple," Harry responded, still maintaining eye contact with Snape, "we steal it."

"I think that's out of the question, Harry," Remus interjected, eliciting a small smile from Snape. "We don't even know what kind of security that place has. There's no way we're equipped to steal anything. This was supposed to be a survey trip only."

"I personally think we're getting a bit ahead of ourselves here," Ellen opined. "Once again, we don't even know if we can trust this information. Why don't we find out a bit more about the whole situation before deciding what to do?"

"Not a bad idea," Richard agreed. "But at the same time, what can _we_ really do while we wait for…Professor Snape here to find out more?"

"I for one," Sirius began, "wouldn't mind hitting the casino downstairs. Merlin knows I didn't get to spend enough time frivolously wasting money at The Merlin."

"If that is the way you want to spend your time," Minerva offered, trying to make Sirius feel guilty. It did not work, as Sirius showed no remorse. "However, I believe Harry here should go back and confront Al about the entire situation and try and find out more. Severus, you should see what you can find out from your end." Snape nodded and exited the room, intent on beginning his mission. "I also personally think that we should see what we can see regarding the back of the house. I know we saw the doors and guards on the floor when we were there earlier. But that's about it. It'll do us no good to figure out that we have to get back there if we don't know how."

"Well, I did see that they were using keycards," Harry informed them. "That's a start at least."

"Indeed it is, Harry. But it's not enough to know that we would need a keycard to get into the back. We need to know who has them, where the doors lead, and other things too. We need to make another trip there, full stop."

"But is there really a point?" Ellen asked. "We already have a good idea about all of that already. Couldn't we use the time to see if we can find a way to get into the back?"

Minerva nodded. "We could do that as well. I am not discounting any possibilities. I simply believe we need to scout the property more and that that would be an excellent use of our time. Once we leave, of course. It's not imperative that we leave immediately, but I do feel that we should return to The Merlin soon."

"Are you sure you don't wanna come with us, Sirius?" Harry asked. "We could really use your help."

"He's right," Remus agreed. "I for one am gonna go with Harry to find this 'Al' character. You should come along too."

"If you lot are trying to guilt me into coming with you," Sirius began, "I can tell you right now that it will not work. I am going down to the casino to play the slots, and that's final."

* * *

><p>In the end, the group decided to wait at least an hour before departing for The Merlin, in order to allow for some relaxation time. The various members of the party retired to their respective rooms, intent on making the most of the time they had been given. In this vein, Harry and Hermione found themselves in their room, with Harry seated on the sofa with his computer on his lap.<p>

Hermione, emerging from the bathroom, took one look at him and shook her head. "You're obsessed with that thing, you know?" she pointed out.

"Nah," Harry replied, not looking away from his screen, "I'm just killing time."

"There're better ways of killing time, like reading a good book," she told him.

"And I could read those books on my computer if I wanted to."

Realizing he was intent on staying on his computer, Hermione headed for the door to her room. "Then I'm gonna kill the time too. I got up too early this morning, so I'm gonna kip out for a bit while we have the time."

Upon hearing this, Harry looked up from the screen. "Oh," he said sheepishly. "I didn't mean to drive you away-"

"You weren't," Hermione reassured him. "I really am tired. Since we've got an hour, I might as well take advantage of it while I can, right?"

Harry shrugged noncommittally. "I guess," he admitted. "Sweet dreams then."

Hermione shot him a grateful look before disappearing into her bedroom and closing the door.

'_Sweet dreams?'_ Harry ridiculed himself. _What the hell was that? That sounds like something Ellen would tell her, not me. I must've sounded like a bloody pansy or something with that, so she must be in there laughing at me by now. Way to go, Mr. Smooth. Tripping over your own tongue doesn't bode well for your friendship. I've always been able to talk to her just fine, so what's she gonna think if I'm acting barmy all of a sudden?_

However, Harry's self-deprecation was interrupted by a soft knock at the door. Placing his computer to the side, Harry rose and looked at the door to Hermione's room as he went to answer the door. Finding that Hermione's door remained closed, Harry concluded that she was either already asleep, or simply did not care who was at the door.

Harry opened the door to find Ellen standing in the hall outside. "Hi Harry," she said, peering over his shoulder. "Where's Hermione? I thought I saw her leave with you?"

"Yeah, she did," he replied. "But she's in the other room sleeping…or at least that's what she said. Something about getting up early this morning or something like that."

"Oh," Ellen replied. "I just wanted to finish a conversation I started with her earlier."

"Did you want me to wake her up?"

"No, that's alright, Harry. I don't think she'd really appreciate that, especially considering the fact that she didn't seem too excited about the conversation this morning."

"Oh."

"But, it does give me a chance to chat with you. I haven't really had a chance to really talk with you since we met, and I'm admittedly curious to see what it is Hermione sees in you."

"Sees in me?" Harry asked, trying to guide the conversation toward answering the question that had been bothering him for weeks.

"Yeah. Hermione talks about you all the time. And since you're her best friend, I just want to see why."

"Oh," he said for the second time, somewhat deflated.

"So, wanna take a walk? I hardly think we should talk in here, what with Hermione in just in the other room."

Glancing behind himself to see that Hermione's door still had not changed, Harry shrugged, giving in to Ellen's suggestion. "Sure," he said in an unsure tone.

"Great!" Ellen exclaimed, moving aside to let Harry exit the room. He followed behind her, patting his pocket to make sure he was carrying his wallet and, in turn, his key to the room.

"So what'd you want to know?" Harry asked tentatively as they walked down the hall.

"Oh, Harry, I'm not trying to find out one thing in particular. I just wanted to get to know you better. You've been friends with Hermione for years, but this holiday is really the first chance Richard or I have had to get to know you. The fact that you've been friends with Hermione for this long tells me that you'll be in her life for a long time to come, so it only makes sense that I learn a bit about you. Lord knows that we don't get to be involved in Hermione's life in the magical world as much as we'd like, so this seems like a good place to start."

"Where should I start?" he asked. However, as soon as he asked, Harry remembered Hermione's warning from a few days before, when she had warned him against divulging too much information to Ellen. "Granted, I do have to keep in mind the fact that Hermione told me not to tell you too much," he added in a joking tone, even though he was completely serious.

"She's just being protective," Ellen explained. "She has this crazy notion that I'm out to embarrass her at every turn, when nothing could be further from the truth. However, sometimes as a parent, you realize that being completely serious with your children is not always best. I hope you get a chance to understand this, Harry. In our case, since Richard and I are now only part of Hermione's life for a few months every year, we have to make the most of it, which means trying to enjoy our time with her. If that involves some good-natured ribbing, then so be it."

Harry pressed the button for the elevator and stepped back slightly to wait for it. "As much as it shouldn't make sense to me at my age, that actually does make a lot of sense. I've only had Hermione's word for it until now, but she talks about how you poke fun at her from time to time. I don't know that she's really upset about it, just that she thinks it can get annoying from time to time."

"And that's part of the problem. As a parent, there is really a fine line to walk with your children. If I were to walk up to Hermione and ask her point-blank how her love life, for instance, was going, she would naturally be upset with me, even though I have only the most noble of intentions." Harry avoided her gaze at her last statement. "Now, I only have experience raising one teenager, so I can't speak for all of them, but my experience with Hermione tells me that, even when I joke with her, it's annoying. So it can be quite difficult for a parent to relate to their children as teenagers. And that's why I'm coming to you. I know you're a teenager too, but I'm hoping I can learn a bit about the world my daughter lives in, as well as a bit about her friends. Richard wants to know too, but I told him not to come, as he sometimes tends to make things worse."

"How so?" Harry asked as they stepped into the elevator.

"Harry, sometimes Richard can be a bit…brusque. This can be especially true when it comes to Hermione's associations. While he won't admit it, I think he tends to see some of her friends as competitors for Hermione's affections, platonic or otherwise." Ellen seemed to be speaking slowly as she chose her words carefully, in an attempt to not reveal Hermione's true feelings. Harry did not pick up on her change in delivery. "But his intentions are noble, despite how they may be conveyed. But enough about him, what about you? What was your life like before you started Hogwarts?"

Harry did not respond immediately as he weighed several different responses. He was reluctant to tell her the truth, however her explanation about her desire to know Hermione better swayed him toward responding honestly. "Not brilliant," he admitted. "My Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon aren't very fond of anything magical, and they made that very clear as I was growing up. Anything magical was discouraged, from speaking about it, to watching films about it. The worst part is, as I'm sure you know, magical children perform accidental magic from time to time." Ellen nodded, remembering various incidents with Hermione. "I, however, was punished every time that happened."

"What do you mean, punished?" Ellen asked warily as the doors of the elevator opened to the first floor lobby. She instantly pressed the button to close the doors again, ensuring their privacy.

Harry chose his words carefully. "Locked in my…room, or sent away without supper…or something like that."

"'Something like that?' What does that mean, Harry? Did you aunt and uncle resort to corporal punishment?"

"Corporal punishment?" Harry asked in confusion. "What's that?"

As Harry finished speaking, the elevator doors opened to reveal a group of five young college students, laughing loudly amongst themselves as they casually took swigs from the oversized drinks that they were carrying.

Ignoring them, Ellen pressed the button for the top floor of the tower and waited for the door to close. The partiers had never noticed that their elevator had arrived.

"Corporal punishment," she began as the elevator began to move, "is physical punishment. I don't really need to explain it further than that. I know it's not really any of my business, and you can refuse to answer me if you want, but I'm understandably curious. Hermione's always said that your childhood wasn't the best, but I don't think that even she knows much about it. So I'll just ask again: did your aunt and uncle use corporal punishment on you, Harry?"

Harry stared at the display next to the elevator door as it slowly counted the floors. "Yeah," he admitted. "But it wasn't that bad," he added quickly. "It's not like they would beat me! I would sometimes get a slapping or something like that. More often, though, I was just thrown in my cupboar…bedroom for punishment."

"Your what?" Ellen asked suspiciously.

"Bedroom," Harry replied quickly, not making eye contact.

"You're a terrible liar, Harry," Ellen scolded. "Hermione's told me that much at least. Now, what did you mean to say?"

"Bedroom," he said defiantly.

Ellen sighed. She should have expected this. Even though she was medically trained, part of her doctoral education had been in psychology, due to the number of nervous children and adults that visited medical professionals. It only made sense to take a few classes on the subject in order to prepare her for her future in the dental field. That Harry was closing up on her was to be expected, especially since she was pushing so hard. If she wanted to keep the conversation alive, she would have to back off and let him keep some secrets.

"Alright then, Harry, I'm not gonna press it. I thought you said 'cupboard,' but it doesn't really matter. In fact, I don't think we really need to talk about your aunt and uncle anymore, do you?" Harry shook his head. "Then how about we move onto bigger and better things. Hermione told us that you and that Weasley boy saved her from a troll in your first year, and that's how you became friends. How'd that happen? She's only told us bits and pieces of the story, since when she came home, she mainly told us about her classes, and only gave Richard and I the vaguest information about her adventures." As she spoke, Ellen pressed the button to return to the lobby of the hotel, since the conversation was no longer in dangerous territory.

"Well, I don't want to make him sound like a right berk, but Ron said something mean to Hermione, which sent her into a right state. She spent the rest of the day in the girls' lavatory crying, and didn't know that there was a troll loose in the school. So when we found out, Ron and I decided to go and find her before the troll did."

"You and Ron had the idea Harry, or just you?"

"It was my idea," he admitted, "but Ron went along with it. We got to her just as the troll did, so we kinda had to fight the troll. I ended up jumping on its back, but Ron eventually levitated its club and used it to knock the troll out. So really, Ron was the one who saved Hermione."

"But would he have gone if it weren't for your suggestion?" Ellen challenged.

"Probably not," Harry replied. "But he went along anyway. Ron's a good friend, and he's shown it over and over again."

"I'm not doubting that, Harry. I know that he can be a good friend, Hermione's said as much. But based on some of the things she's said, and on what you just told me, I almost think that he doesn't think things through all the way. In other words, he leaps before he looks."

"That's kinda true, but at the same time, it's not. Ron's a great strategist, as hard as that may be for you to believe. He can whip me at chess any day of the week, and he's even been known to beat Hermione, at least when she plays with him. I almost think he just has a short temper that can get the better of him sometimes. And those instances just happen to occur at the worst possible times."

Ellen shook her head good-naturedly. "I'm sorry, Harry. He may be a good strategist, but he doesn't seem like he thinks things through."

"That can be true from time to time. But he is willing to help out whenever he can too. Later that year, he sacrificed himself in a giant chess game so that Hermione and I could move forward through what was, basically, a series of dangerous puzzles."

Ellen nodded. "Hm, I think Hermione told us a bit about that. Something about the…what was it called? Philosopher's Stone?"

"Yeah, that's it," Harry replied as the elevator doors opened to the empty lobby. The pair stepped out of the cramped box and began to walk toward the MGM casino. "One of the security measures before the Stone was a giant chess game with living pieces that would actually attack you. At the end of the game, based on where the pieces were, one of us had to sacrifice ourselves. Ron chose to do that. So you can't really say he thinks only of himself."

"That's not what I was trying to say, Harry. But no matter. Anyway, it sounds like you three have had all kinds of little adventures throughout the years."

"Well…not really," Harry admitted. "Ever since the end of our second year, we haven't had too many adventures that involved all three of us. I mean, there was the time when we found Sirius for the first time, but Ron was injured during that little episode. Hermione and I went back in time later that night in order to save Sirius, while Ron was stuck in the hospital wing. At the end of the night, Hermione and I rode Buckbeak…the hippogriff, which was great fun. Oh, and Sirius rode with us too."

"Right. I think Hermione mentioned something about really enjoying being able to spend that time with you without Ron being around to cock about."

"Yeah, it was pretty nice," Harry said dazedly. "I almost think that Ron found out about that somehow too. I know I never told him about it, but he seemed really suspicious of me the next year when we went back to school. For example, he didn't believe me, at least at first, when I told him that I didn't put my name in the Goblet."

"But Hermione did," Ellen finished for him.

"Yeah…she did. She was the only one, really. I mean, Ron came around eventually, and so did a few others by the beginning of this last year. But in general, everyone still thinks I'm a liar and a cheat."

"Sounds like Hermione stuck by you when nobody else would."

"Yeah, she did," Harry repeated as they entered the casino floor. "She helped me prepare for the Tournament, spending countless hours of her own time making sure I would be safe. I'm not really sure I'd be here today if it weren't for that."

"Let's go with that, Harry…the future I mean. You said you wouldn't be here today if it weren't for Hermione last year. So where do you see yourself in a few years, now that you've been granted this new lease on life?" Her tone was joking, especially at the end of her question, but Ellen's inquiry was grounded in actual curiosity.

"I haven't really thought about it," he said sheepishly. "Every year, I seem to have yet another run-in with death. It just seems likely that one of these days my luck will run out."

"Harry, can I be honest with you?" He nodded. "That's no way for someone your age to think. At your age you should be worrying about that girl you're crushing on, not on whether you'll survive to see the sun rise tomorrow."

_She has no idea_, Harry thought, as they finished their lap around the casino floor and began the return trip to The Signature.

"From what I've seen of you," Ellen continued, "you're a nice young man, and I can certainly see what Hermione sees in you. She has told us about a few of the things you're gone through, and hearing that your life with your relatives was not great only reinforces what Hermione's said. Honestly, I think you've had to grow up too quickly, and that's a real shame. I see Sirius up there trying to get you to loosen up by joking around with you, and I've seen it work. I've seen you smile, so you can't tell me it's as bad as you think. You don't have to live in fear of your life all of the time, even if there is a madman out there who's hell-bent on killing you. If I can offer you some advice Harry, it would be to let go. Do something for yourself, take a chance. You may find that your relationships will deepen if you let yourself go a bit."

"But I do let myself go…a lot actually!" Harry objected. "You've seen me around Hermione! I can joke around with her! I joke around with Sirius and Remus! Ron too!"

"You're exactly right, Harry," Ellen agreed. "But I'm not just talking about joking around. Loosening up is not just about joking around; there's more to it than that."

"Like what?" he asked, genuinely confused.

"That's entirely up to you. Simply joking around all of the time is a sign of a very shallow personality, and I know that doesn't describe you. Just based on our conversation today, I can tell that there's much more to you than that. You aren't shallow at all; you have incredible depth of character, and you need to show that. Be happy and show it. Don't be grim all of the time. Be social. If you want to be funny, don't rely on sarcasm all of the time. But more importantly, be affectionate. If I'm honest with you, you can come across as kinda cold sometimes, even if I know that you aren't. Show that. Show some affection. You have the perfect opportunity with this holiday…don't waste it."

Harry nodded silently as they returned to the lobby of their hotel. He didn't respond to Ellen verbally, instead considering her words as they waited for the elevator to arrive. The journey back to their floor was also taken in silence, with Ellen allowing Harry to ponder what she had said.

As they reached the doors to their respective rooms, Ellen turned to Harry. "Think about what I said, Harry. You have your whole life ahead of you, and it doesn't hurt to be prepared for the future." Harry nodded absently. "Thanks for talking with me too, Harry. That's exactly the kind of conversation I wanted to have. You even gave me a bit of insight into Hermione's life away from Richard and I, which is what I wanted, so thank you." With that, she turned and unlocked the door to her room before slipping inside.

Harry stood in the hallway alone for a moment, staring at the door to the Grangers' room. After a moment, he turned and entered his and Hermione's room, intent on seeing if she was ready to leave.

* * *

><p><em>July 25, 2011<em>

_1:18 PM_

_Magical Gaming Commission_

_Las Vegas Office_

Forty-three year old Roger Daltrey sighed deeply as he rubbed his eyes, looking away from the pile of reports that were scattered atop his desk in various piles. So far, he had been in the office for nearly five hours that day, yet he still found himself sifting through the reports pertaining to the latest muggle obliviation incident at the Mandalay Bay resort. While normally this would be a relatively short and easy process, this particular incident meant it was anything but. In this case, a wizard had attempted to hijack and levitate a cash cart out the front door, in plain view of the hundreds of muggles on the casino floor. The level of obliviation required in this case had been greater than any so far that year within his jurisdiction, meaning he was treated to a pile of paperwork. Considering the fact that a four page form had to be completed for every obliviation subject, it was little wonder that Alverson was still reading through them all.

Putting the most recent piece of paper into the pile of those that he had completed, Roger turned around in his chair and leaned back as he stared out the window of his small office. While he held the position of Inspector, he was in no position of senior leadership, and his office reflected this position. Twisting his wedding band around his ring finger, he watched the pedestrians on the street four stories below, making their way around old-town Las Vegas.

Suddenly, he was startled out of his reverie by a knock at his office door.

"Come in," Daltrey sighed as he spun around in his chair once more to face the door from behind his desk.

The door opened and one of the office assistants, Ramona Mencia, stepped inside.

"What is it, Ramona?" Roger asked, perking up so as not to give away his true mood.

The silver-haired woman in her late fifties placed a single piece of paper atop the mountain on his desk. "One of our field agents just reported seeing Harry Potter in The Merlin earlier today," she said as Alverson picked up the paper. "I didn't know he was here."

Roger nodded without looking up from the page. "Yeah, we caught him coming in at McCarran Airport yesterday afternoon. I'm sure those stupid limeys in their Ministry would be itching to know he's here, but until he does something…"

"Anyway, just thought I'd pass that along. Did you want me to put anyone on it?"

Daltrey shook his head. "Nah, he hasn't done anything to warrant that kind of attention. But I'll keep an eye on it personally."

"Right," Ramona responded as she turned to leave the office.

"Thanks," Roger muttered as she closed the door behind her. He continued to read the short report, which did not go into too much detail aside from the fact that the agent had seen Potter, along with a group of others, go into The Merlin. But when the agent followed them inside, he lost track of them.

Pondering this, Daltrey reached over to grab his coffee mug and took a drink. He instantly spat it back into the cup in disgust. "Ugh, cold," he grumbled as he pushed the mug away. "_Now why could the biggest celebrity in magical Britain be in Vegas?_" he pondered. "_Visiting a resort owned by another British wizard, no less…Harry Potter, what are you up to?"_

Finished with reading the sparse report Ramona had given him, Roger placed it in the pile of completed paperwork. Making a snap decision to follow up on her report and temporarily abandon his remaining mountain of paperwork, he grabbed his keys from the desk and made his way out of the office.

Roger had been aware since an early age that he shared a name with the lead singer of the British rock band, The Who. His parents had always maintained that it was simply a coincidence, which Roger had never actually believed, due to the timing of his birth coinciding with the band's rise to fame. Despite this, in public, he maintained the ruse that his parents had devised, informing others that his name was simply coincidental. However, that did nothing to dissuade anyone who learned his name from asking whether he was related to the celebrity. In rare cases, he had even had people ask him for his autograph, thinking he was really the singer. All of this experience had led him to develop an admittedly baseless dislike for the British, due to the fact that the real Mr. Daltrey was British. This dislike did sometimes show during his limited interactions with the British, and had even contributed to a deep-seated suspicion of a certain Lucius Malfoy, owner and chairman of The Merlin resort. Daltrey was sure, but had so far been unable to prove, any wrongdoing or shady activities on the part of the British wizard. Daltrey's superiors too, were of no help, never allowing an investigation or search of the property, despite his recent pleas. All of this had led Daltrey to his current bitter mood.

Exiting his office into a long room full of cubicles, Daltrey made his way toward the elevators on the far wall to his right. As he passed the reception desk, he was stopped once more by Ramona.

"Going somewhere?" she asked, spotting the keys in his hand.

"Just out," he replied cryptically.

She shook her head at his response. "You know, I'll never understand why you insist on driving that…contraption," she said, referencing the car keys in his hand. "Apparition is so much easier."

Daltrey gave her a small smile. "Ramona, you know I love you, but you'll never understand that sometimes, one has to just enjoy the finer things in life. Driving…that's one of them for me."

Ramona shrugged and shook her head once more, still not understanding.

Roger chuckled. "See ya Ramona," he said as he pushed the button on the elevator next to the reception desk. A moment later, the doors closed as he was whisked downstairs.

* * *

><p><em>July 25, 2011<em>

_1:46 PM_

"Hurry up, Sirius," Harry yelled. "We're almost there!"

Harry turned his attention back ahead of himself, after looking behind to see Sirius trudging along, almost begrudgingly. Despite his earlier declaration that nothing would keep him from the casino floor of the MGM Grand, Sirius found himself trailing behind the rest of the group as they made their return trip to The Merlin. Of course, it helped that Harry had told him that, if he behaved himself, he could gamble when they got done.

"I still don't think he's too happy to be here," Hermione observed.

"Tough luck for him," Harry replied unsympathetically. "Why should he get to skive off and play when the rest of us have work to do?"

Hermione shrugged. "Well, remember that this was supposed to be a holiday in the first place. So we can hardly blame him for wanting to do something entertaining."

"Come on, we've only been here for one day. I could understand that if this was the last day of the trip or something, but I mean, come on!"

Hermione shook her head as they crossed the final street near The Merlin, finding themselves in front of the impressive resort once more.

"Harry!" Remus called from a few meters in front of the teens. He had stopped moving as he waited for them to catch up.

"I guess that's my cue," Harry told Hermione, referring to the fact that Remus wanted to help Harry find Al. Hermione's parents, meanwhile, had wanted her to stay with them once again.

"Alright," she sighed as Harry split away and met up with Remus, "see you later."

Harry nodded as she walked away to meet her parents, just as Sirius passed by, grumbling about something unintelligible.

"I never thought that he would act like this," Harry said to Remus.

"Don't worry, Harry, I've seen it before. Whenever he gets his heart set on something and it gets taken away from him, he gets like this."

"But I would have thought he'd want to help us, what were his words? 'Stomp Lucius?'"

"And I'm sure he does. I think he's just putting on a show at this point. I really don't think he's as crushed as he looks; he just has an image to maintain. I do think he wanted to go down to the casino, but wasn't really against coming here. It's just not in his personality to give up easily."

"Huh," Harry grunted as he watched Sirius enter the building and he and Remus began to walk towards it as well.

"Anyway, Harry, we haven't really had a chance to talk since we got here."

"Oh no," Harry groaned quietly, anticipating the conversation to come. "I just had a conversation that started like this with Ellen. Do I have to do it again?"

"I just wanna ask," Remus began, ignoring his question, "how was your night last night?"

"Didn't see that question coming," Harry muttered, turning red with embarrassment.

"What?" Remus asked. "It's a simple question. How was your night?"

"Fine," Harry answered slowly. "I don't know what you're trying to get at with this question. It's almost Sirius-like." Remus grinned at that comment. "I mean, we slept in separate rooms for Merlin's sake! It's not like anything was gonna happen!"

Remus quirked an eyebrow at this comment as they entered the casino. "Were you expecting something to happen?" he asked.

"Gah!" Harry exclaimed. "You two are hopeless, you know that?"

"Relax, Harry," Remus instructed, chuckling. "This is a holiday after all. It's meant to be a relaxing time."

"But how can I relax when you and Sirius are on my back all the time about Hermione? Sirius especially; he just can't seem to let it go, what with the constant ribbing."

"I think he's just having a bit of fun at your expense, Harry," Remus suggested. "I really don't think he's out to embarrass you or anything like that. At least, that's not his _entire_ goal. But can you really deny that his little barbs haven't made you think about and consider things that you wouldn't have normally done? I can tell by the way you seem to be tiptoeing around Hermione more now that some kind of little bell has gone off in your mind. What does that mean though? That's not for me to decide. You've been given the perfect opportunity to figure things out, what with rooming with her and all. And I think that, no matter what you figure out, Sirius will support you in that. But at the same time, I don't think he can just abandon his childish, prankster nature, which explains a lot of how he's been acting about the entire situation."

Harry nodded absently as they entered the restroom to apply the same glamours as that morning. As soon as they finished, they approached the center of the circular casino, and the blackjack tables it contained. The first thing Harry did was lead the way to the table he remembered playing at that morning. However, as they approached, they found it empty, and instead found two of the other tables in that group staffed by different dealers. Both tables were being overseen by a woman who appeared to be the pit boss.

"He's not here," Harry announced.

"Well that's not really surprising," Remus replied. "Dealers rotate all the time. It's just another security measure to prevent cheating. That, along with the fact that casinos are open twenty-four hours a day, means that you can't always have the same dealer at every table."

"But it wasn't that long ago. Besides, he said he was just going on break. I don't think he'd be off by now."

Remus shrugged. "Well, worst case scenario is that we could ask the pit boss over there. If anyone would know, they would."

Harry agreed as they walked up to one of the empty blackjack tables and waited. A moment later, the pit boss, a woman in her mid to late-fifties with graying blonde hair, turned her attention away from the table she was observing and caught sight of them.

"Something I can help you with?" she asked.

Harry glanced at her maroon uniform, and the silver nametag pinned upon it. "Acutally…Donna," he began, "I was looking for someone. A certain dealer. I was hoping you'd know where he was."

"And who would that be?" she asked as she glanced over his shoulder, still observing the floor.

"His name was Al. He was actually my dealer this morning, and I was hoping to find him again this afternoon. He said something about taking a break when I left, but that was only a couple of hours ago. I hardly think he'd be done for the day so soon, but then again, I'm not sure when he started today."

Donna appeared as though she was thinking about Harry's question for a moment. Her brow furrowed in thought, she crossed her arms briefly before her visage cleared. "I don't know of any 'Al,' here," she replied finally. "And I know all of the dealers personally, since I never know who I'll be supervising from day to day. But I can tell you that we don't have a dealer named 'Al' here. At least, not at this property. I can't speak for the others, however."

"You've gotta be kidding me," Harry responded, flabbergasted. "He was just here this morning!"

Donna shrugged, not seeming to care about Harry's plight. "I can only tell you what I know," she said genuinely. "And that is that there is no 'Al' that works here, dealer or otherwise. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to be getting back to work." With that, she turned her back to the pair and focused her attention back on observing the two dealers before her.

"Well she was rude," Harry observed as they walked away.

"Maybe she could've handled that better," Remus agreed, "but her point still stands. As far as she's concerned, there is no 'Al' who is a dealer here. So that puts us back in square one."

"Actually," Harry retorted, "it puts us further back than square one. Now we have more problems than we had before. The fact that Al's missing just makes things more complicated and throws that note into question even more."

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, Richard Granger found himself leaning against the casino wall next to a door labeled "Resort Staff Only," acting as though he was playing with his cell phone. Despite the fact that he appeared to be engaged in some form of business on his phone, Richard's attention was focused elsewhere, as he waited for a member of the casino staff to approach the door. His wife and disguised daughter, meanwhile, were seated nearby on a pair of slot machines, counting all of the cameras they could see.<p>

As he was glancing around the casino floor, Richard was approached by a member of the casino's security staff. As the burly man seemed to be approaching Richard directly, the latter stepped further away from the door and refocused his attention on the screen of his phone. However, instead of telling Richard off for standing too close to the door, the guard stopped in front of the door and reached for the card that dangled from a retractor on his belt.

Richard glanced up from his phone subtly to watch as the guard pulled the card out and slid it through the small black card reader situated next to the door. A name flashed up on the tiny screen on the reader, before the red light on the top turned green, accompanied by the faint clicking sound of a door unlocking. Pulling open the door, the guard entered and disappeared, the door closing quickly behind him.

Disappointed that he could not get a glimpse of the world behind the door, Richard returned to Ellen and Hermione, who both seemed to be idly playing their respective machines as they glanced at the ceiling.

"Find out anything?" Ellen asked discreetly as Richard sat down at the machine next to her. He fed a ten dollar bill into the machine and began to play.

"Just what Harry told us before, that the doors use a keycard. But I was able to see that, at the very least, each card is specifically coded to a specific employee. Their name shows up on a little screen on the card reader. That means that each employee has their own unique card, which could make things more difficult for us."

Ellen nodded her head in agreement. If each employee simply used a standard-issue card that was not unique to each employee, then it would be much easier to get hold of one or forge one, in order to get through the various doors in the resort. However, since each was keyed to a particular employee, that meant that each employee guarded their cards much more closely, and also meant that a real card must be used to get through doors. Using magic to unlock a door was out of the question due to the magic detectors on the casino floor.

"So we have to find a way through the door without taking a card," Richard concluded. Ellen suddenly realized that he had been speaking while she had been considering their predicament. Seeing the look of realization upon his wife's face, Richard chuckled. "Get distracted, eh?" he asked humorously.

"Shut up," she retorted, gaining the attention of Hermione.

"What're you two on about?" she asked, turning away from her machine.

"Oh, your mother just seems to have the attention span of a five year old, that's all," her father explained.

"And your father is being an oversized child by pointing out other's shortcomings," Ellen added, grinning.

"What else is new?" Hermione joked as she pushed the button on the machine to play again. The first four bars all stopped quickly, each containing one of the bonus symbols heralded on the machine's sign. A brief moment later, after spinning a bit longer, the fifth bar stopped, also containing a bonus symbol. "Hey! I won!" Hermione exclaimed as the screen changed to another set of spinning symbols. According to the game, she was given five free spins to see how much she would win.

"Heh?" Richard grunted as he leaned over to see her screen. As the spins continued, Hermione was graced with an additional bonus, giving her an extra five spins within her other free spins. With bells ringing and lights flashing, Hermione was winning big…for a penny machine. Finally, when she had used her last free spin, the machine quieted down and the trio took stock of her winnings.

"Not bad," Ellen commented. "Especially considering how much you were playing. You did put in just one dollar, right?" Hermione nodded.

"Well, you just won almost seventy-five dollars, which is quite good," Richard praised. "I would just stop while you're ahead and take it while you can."

Hermione cocked her head in doubt of her father's proposal. "Yeah, but if I played a bit more, I could win a bit-"

"Hermione," Richard warned, "don't even start with that. That's how someone becomes addicted. If I can offer you one word of wisdom? Quit while you're ahead. Trust me, it's for the better."

Glancing at her parents questioningly, curious as to her father's meaning, Hermione nodded. "Alright…" she said slowly, selecting the option on the machine to cash out her winnings.

"Ahem," Richard said, clearing his throat in order to change the subject, "so what did you find out you two?"

"I counted just over two hundred cameras on the casino floor," Ellen informed him. "At least, that's what I could see. There could be a few more."

'What's a few more when we're talking about hundreds of cameras?" he asked sarcastically. "So they have eyes everywhere. What else?"

"Eyes in the sky and ears on the floor," Hermione interjected.

"Huh?"

"They have cameras everywhere, but that's not all. We saw some bloke over there working on one of the tables, fiddling with some kind of box or device underneath it." She nodded over to a craps table about ten meters away. "It almost looked like he was installing it, or maybe replacing the unit. Anyway, it looked like there were wires running out of it to various points on the table. Almost like microphones."

"So they can see and hear everything on the casino floor? What about what we're saying now?"

Hermione shook her head. "I doubt it. Slot machines make too much noise…as we've already experienced, so microphones would be pretty much useless. They couldn't hear anything of value."

"Good point," Richard conceded as he saw Harry and Remus walking towards them, concern etched on their faces. "And here we go," he muttered to the others, turning their attention toward the newcomers.

"Al doesn't exist, apparently," Harry announced as soon as the pair reached the Grangers. "Or so one of the pit bosses told us. I think she's full of it personally, since I saw him and talked to him myself, but that's what we know."

"At least it confirms that we shouldn't trust the note," Hermione suggested, trying to look on the bright side.

"But we're back where we started then," Harry objected.

"Not really," Ellen argued. "I mean, we can't be _sure_ that the…" she looked around briefly, "object is what we think it is. But at least we have a starting point. Before, we had no idea what it could possibly be. Now, even though we aren't sure, we have somewhere to start."

Harry shook his head, discounting Ellen's argument. "Please tell me you guys were more productive than we were."

"Well, we learned a bit more about this place. But I'm not really too keen on talking about it here," Richard said. "Should we go back to our rooms?"

"Again?" Harry groaned. "What, are we gonna spend all day walking back and forth between our hotel and here? Just seems like a waste."

"Yeah," Ellen agreed somewhat, "but just think of all the sun you're getting. We don't get sun like this in Britain, so it's something new to experience. Just look on the bright side."

"I'm not sure if there's a pun in there about the sun and 'bright side,'" Harry mused, "but it wasn't funny either way."

Ellen snorted at Harry's thinly veiled insult. "It wasn't supposed to be a pun or funny at all, Harry. But thanks for pointing out how unfunny it really was."

"Not a problem," he replied with a grin as the Grangers rose from their seats at the slot machines. "So how'd you make out?"

"Well," Ellen began, "we were only playing on the penny machines, so we didn't spend too much money. So I'm only down about five dollars."

"But I'm up about seventy-five dollars, all told," Hermione announced proudly.

"That's great!" Harry congratulated her enthusiastically. "What're you gonna do with all that money?"

Hermione furrowed her brow in concentration for a moment as she seemed to mull over her options. "Well, I could invest it in a retirement account and see how big it is in a few decades," she joked. "Or I could go spend it all right now on some books or something fun while we're here. Both options are really tempting though."

"I can tell you right now that you can't be too young to invest in your retirement," Richard suggested. "If you invest that seventy-five dollars there right now, you could have about a thousand pounds in fifty years or so. Interest rates are just that good right now," he finished lightheartedly.

"Then I think I'll just spend it," Hermione decided.

"On?" Harry asked.

"I dunno yet. I'll think of something. This is only our first full day here, so we've got plenty left to go. Who knows? I might find something that I can't live without."

"Where'd McGon…erm, Minerva and Sirius go?" Harry asked the Grangers, having not seen where the pair had disappeared to after entering the casino.

"Well, I know Sirius was keen to hit the slot machines, remember?" Richard posed. "From what I could gather, Minerva was going in the same direction. However, I hardly think she was going to spend all her time gambling. I think it far more likely that she simply wanted to keep an eye on Sirius."

"Merlin knows he can find trouble anywhere," Remus muttered under his breath.

"I sense that there's a story there?" Richard asked as they left the bank of slot machines.

Remus glanced at Harry, who appeared to be listening intently. "Yeah, but not one for Harry's ears. Or Hermione's for that matter." A look of disappointment flashed across Harry's face at this. "Maybe another time, Richard. Let's just say it involves chicken, a garden spade, and some string. All in a muggle club, too. I'll leave it there, but you can use your imagination."

"…okay," Richard replied slowly. "I think I'll have to hear the whole story sometime…"

"It certainly makes for some interesting conversation around the table, I'll tell you that. But no matter, where the hell is Sirius?" Remus asked as he peered around the casino floor. Finally, he spotted him. "Oh, naturally," he groaned as the group walked toward the person in question.

Sirius was indeed sitting at a slot machine. However, he was not interested in the happenings on the screen. Instead, his attention was solely fixed on chatting up the busty blonde server standing in front of him, who's a top and shorts that were two sizes too small.

"Oh, honestly," Hermione complained as she rolled her eyes. "We've been here for less than an hour and he's already flirting with the locals. Merlin only knows how he'll be by the end of the trip."

"Padfoot!" Remus yelled, startling Sirius out of his intense, one-sided conversation with the server once they were a few meters away.

"Heh?" Sirius responded, his attention torn away from the person in front of him.

"Padfoot?" the blonde asked, turning to spot Remus. "What kind of name is that?"

"A nickname," Remus replied naturally. "Paddy O'Toole's his name, and, well, you see, he lost a foot in a tragic potato harvesting accident years ago, so we call him 'Padfoot.'"

The server looked down to see what appeared to be two perfectly operational feet.

"Fake foot," Sirius explained as he tracked her gaze. "The wonders of modern medical technology, I tell you."

"Erm…sure," she replied uncertainly. "Um…I'll be right back with your drink, sir," she finished, stepping away to indicate her desire to leave.

"Forget it," Remus interjected. "We were just leaving anyway, and I doubt he needs anything to drink." The look of relief on the server's face was priceless as she quickly turned and left the group. "Now, Sirius, where's your handler? I thought Minerva was staying with you?"

"And so she was," an aged female voice interrupted from behind him. Remus turned to find that Minerva had stealthily joined the group while his back was turned. "I simply wanted to see the 'talented' Mr. Black flounder under his own 'talent' with the ladies."

"A most noble goal, if I do say so myself, Minerva," Remus replied.

"Must you two mock me?" Sirius whined. "I was doing just fine on my own before you came over and ruined everything!"

"It didn't really look like you were doing fine," Harry said. "She looked like she was dying to get away. What were you talking to her about anyway?"

"Just how fascinating it must be to work in a place like this every day, seeing different kinds of people, not to mention the city itself. It must really be fun. And you know what? She actually seemed interested, no matter what you say, Harry."

"Sirius," Richard began, speaking up and joining the side of Harry, Remus, and Minerva, "I'm sure she deals with drunks all day who try to be suave and debonair and take her home with them. She's probably learned how to patronize them without becoming attached, so that's why you got the impression that she was interested when she really wasn't. Did you notice how she disappeared as soon as humanly possible when we got here? I rest my case."

"I think she might have been more interested in how he could be so 'suave' and 'debonair' without having a drink in him," Ellen muttered, earning an unladylike snort from Hermione. Ellen heard this, as Hermione was standing right next to her, even if they others didn't. She leaned over to her daughter and whispered in her ear. "Now, Hermione, what would Harry think if he heard that?"

"Mum!" Hermione exclaimed, gaining the attention of the others.

"What'd she do?" Harry asked, his curiosity piqued.

"Nothing!" Hermione replied quickly. "Hey, Sirius! We were gonna head back to the hotel," she added, trying to change the subject, "so come on!"

"Er…why?" Sirius asked.

"We have _things_ to discuss," she said in response.

"'_Things_?'" he asked.

"_Things_ and _stuff_," Hermione added with mock seriousness.

"Oh…." Sirius replied, mocking the significance of her words. "Well then, but all means, lead the way."

"Gladly," she said as she took the lead confidently, the others trudging behind as she led the way out of the casino.

"'Paddy O'Toole?'" Harry mocked as he leaned over to whisper to Remus.

Remus shrugged indifferently. "The thing about being a Marauder is that we all had to learn how to think on our feet. Came in handy more times than I can count with Minnie over there," he gestured toward McGonagall. "And got us out of trouble more times than I'd care to think about. We all learned how to think quickly. Except Peter, of course. He couldn't do anything quickly…except eat; everything else was too physical. You can probably tell just by looking at him."

"Too true," Harry muttered as they emerged into the bright sunlight of mid-afternoon Las Vegas.

"What're you two whispering about over there?" Sirius asked Harry and Remus loudly. "I feel like I should be watching my back or something here!"

"Nothing so sinister, Padfoot," Remus replied.

"Yeah , yeah, that's what you and James said that one time too, and I believed you then. But look where it got me! You put a sticking charm on my kegs! You had me waddling around the castle all day until Filius could get it undone!"

"But it was pretty damn funny, don't you think?"

"No! It wasn't funny at all! It was embarrassing!"

"But it would have been funny if you had thought of it, right?" Remus prodded.

"Uh uh," Sirius said as he shook his head. "I'm not falling for that ploy. It wasn't funny. That's my story and I'm sticking with it."

"Whatever you say, Paddy."

"'Whatever you say, Paddy,'" Sirius mocked. "Why are we leaving again, anyway? I was having a perfectly fine time on my own in there without you lot coming and ruining it. What's so important? Did Moldywart pay you a visit while I wasn't looking or something? Was he wearing a tutu and playing a trombone while his Death Eaters formed a chorus line behind him? Because the way you're acting, anything else would be a letdown."

"Sirius?" Harry interrupted politely.

"Yes, Harry?"

"Shut up. You're acting like a child, and that's saying something coming from me. I don't know what it is about this city, but it's changed you or something. And I don't like it, so knock it off."

Sirius jerked his head back in surprise as he walked, taken aback by Harry's forceful words. He had no idea that he had been acting so immature. Instead, he had been trying to be funny, acting as though everything was a chore for him, and that he was not interested in helping the group. But apparently his behavior had not been taken as he had intended, and instead had made him out to be immature and spoiled.

"I'm…erm….sorry, Harry," Sirius admitted sheepishly. "I wasn't trying to be childish, I was trying to be funny. Apparently it fell it a bit…flat."

"Yeah, it did," Harry agreed. "But a word of advice if I may, Sirius?" Sirius nodded. "Next time you try to pull something like that, make it more gradual." Harry grinned evilly. "The change in your personality was far too abrupt to be believable. Spread it out over a few days or something next time and it'll be more believable."

"I'll keep that in mind, kiddo."

"Are there any other pearls of wisdom that Professor Potter would like to impart to us?" Remus asked, having overheard the entire conversation.

"I'll have to consult my lesson plan in my room," Harry joked. "You'll have to wait until next class to see."

"I look forward to it."

* * *

><p>Roger Daltrey spun back around in his seat and pressed the button on the screen of the slot machine to cash out his winnings. Grabbing the ticket from the dispenser, he rose and stuffed it in his pocket as he made his way toward the door.<p>

Having driven recklessly from the office, he had arrived at The Merlin in time to see Potter enter the resort with another man, and make his way to the restroom. A moment later, Potter's companion had emerged, accompanied by a completely different individual. Daltrey could only assume that it was Potter, who had been disguised. He had then watched as Potter and his companion had walked the casino floor, stopping only to speak to a pit boss at the blackjack tables. They had then met up with a few other individuals, who Daltrey did not recognize. After exchanging a few words, the group departed the casino. So far, Daltrey had not seen anything incriminating occur, which he found somewhat disappointing.

Still, Daltrey was not convinced. It was simply too coincidental that Potter, who had been famously barred by the British Ministry of Magic from travelling abroad, suddenly found himself in Las Vegas, and was frequenting an establishment owned by another famous British wizard. A wizard, Daltrey reminded himself, whose shady dealings continued to raise suspicions.

"Can I get you something to drink, sir?" a pleasant voice asked, startling Roger out of his thoughts. He looked up to find a scantily clad server with her pad and pen at the ready.

"No, thank you," he replied gruffly. "I was just leaving." He pushed past her and walked swiftly out the door, pulling his cell phone out of his jeans pocket as he did so. Having worked in the field for years, he had learned to keep a set of casual clothes in his car, in case he needed to change quickly in order to blend into his surroundings. This situation was no different.

Finding himself on the Strip, he glanced down the street in either direction, hoping to find Potter and his associates. Finally, he caught sight of them, a good distance away, crossing the street to the MGM Grand.

Daltrey punched a few numbers into his phone and put it up to his ear. Despite the advantages of magic, there were still times where muggle technology was superior. Cell phones, providing instant communication, were an example of this. The fact that the U.S. government had developed the ability to shield muggle technology from magical interference helped as well. They had found that certain magical methods of communication, such as patroni, were far too conspicuous and exclusive to be practical.

His call was picked up just as the group Daltrey was observing entered the MGM. "Hello?" the familiar feminine voice on the other end asked.

"Ramona," Roger greeted curtly, "find someone to watch the MGM Grand. I think Potter's staying there, and I'm not sure what he's up to. I just wanna cover my bases."

"Why do you think he's up to anything?" she asked, questioning his judgment. Over several years of working with each other, Ramona and Roger had developed a working relationship that allowed her to ask such pointed questions without it being considered insubordination. They had also developed the ability to banter good-naturedly, without consequence.

"Just call it a hunch."

"A hunch that conveniently involves, in some way or another, a large number of Brits? That doesn't sound like a hunch, that sounds like discrimination."

"Ramona," Roger groaned, "can you just do this for me?"

"Mr. Alverson isn't going to like this," she said, referring to the head of their office, Bruce Alverson.

"Yeah, but he's on vacation for two more weeks, remember?" Daltrey reminded her. "Do this and I'll see if I can get Amy to give up her mother's cookie recipe you want so much."

There was silence on the other end of the line as Ramona considered his proposal. Ever since he had brought in a plate of cookies that his wife had made, Ramona had been clamoring for the recipe. "Fine," she answered finally. "I'll see who I can get."

"Thanks Ramona, you're the best," Roger complimented with sickening sweetness.

"Don't let that wife of yours hear that," she joked.

"Never," he replied with a chuckle. "I'm gonna stay out here for the rest of the day to keep an eye out. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Sure thing. Oh! Kyle's got some forms for me, so I gotta go. See you tomorrow!" she hung up with a click, leaving Daltrey to glance at his phone and shake his head briefly as he pocketed his phone once more.

* * *

><p><em>July 25, 2011<em>

_2:57 PM_

_The Signature at MGM Grand_

Minerva McGonagall inserted her key card into the lock on the door of her suite and waited for the click before turning the handle and entering. The others followed behind, with Sirius brining up the rear, closing the door behind himself.

"In all seriousness," he began, "what's so important that we had to walk all the way back here to discuss?"

"Nothing," Harry replied smartly. "That's exactly the problem."

"Then why the hell are we here instead of finding something out back there?" Sirius exclaimed, not with anger toward Harry, but in confusion.

"Now I know what I'm getting Sirius here for Christmas," Richard muttered. "A bloody 'Jump to Conclusions' mat. Just hear the boy out, will you?"

Harry shot Richard a grateful smile and nod before pressing on. "Moony and I went to look for Al, but in the end, we found out that he supposedly doesn't exist. That's really odd, considering the fact that I saw him and talked to him."

As Harry was speaking, Minerva walked over to the small table near the sofa and picked something up.

"So the note can't be real then, can it?" Sirius asked.

"I wouldn't say that, Mr. Black," Minerva said as she looked at the note in her hand. "Looks like Severus paid us a visit while we were away," she added, nodding toward the piece of unlined muggle paper in her hand.

"And?" Remus asked expectantly.

"I think it'd be best if I read it aloud," she concluded, pushing her glasses up her nose. "'As you were not present when I returned, I was forced to leave this note to report my findings. After some…liquid encouragement, Lucius was far more…willing to provide me with additional information. The Dark Lord has hidden 'the key to his immortality,' in order to keep it from Potter's potentially prying mind. However, the Dark Lord will be arriving in six days to key himself into a small inner vault within the main casino vault where the item is stored. Lucius would not reveal how the Dark Lord would key himself in, however. Now, I must remove this conversation from Lucius's memory. I will be in touch. SS.'"

"Well that's certainly…interesting," Hermione commented once Minerva had finished reading.

"Who'da thunk Al'd be right?" Harry asked.

"'Thunk,' Harry?" Hermione balked. "What kind of word is that?"

Harry shrugged. "Sometimes I make up words to suit my needs. You should have noticed that by now."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh yeah. How could I forget the word 'thinkify?' Or 'playificate?' I don't know where you get it, but that's just ridiculous!"

"New words are always considered a bit barmy. And I'm just trying to have a bit of fun," Harry rationalized. "But we're getting off track. So, at least as far as Snape's concerned, the thing is a horcrux. So what do we do about it? More to the point, why didn't Snape use this 'liquid encouragement' earlier? Would've saved us a lot of trouble."

"You mean get him drunk and wipe his memory?" Richard asked sarcastically. "Gee, I wonder? Maybe the inherent immorality of it all?"

"That's never stopped Snape before," Harry countered.

"That's true," Sirius replied. "Snivellus is the least moral person I know…outside of Lucius here of course. He just happens to be on our side. Or so I'm told."

"Anyway, back on topic," Remus interrupted, "we've gotta do something about this thing. Now that we know this is a horcrux, we can't just let it stay here."

"I thought you said that we weren't equipped to steal anything?" Harry pointed out.

"We aren't," Remus agreed. "But that doesn't mean we shouldn't do it anyway."

"That doesn't make sense," Hermione said, confused.

"We aren't equipped for this," Remus repeated, "but we should still try. We could fail, but we kinda know what we're up against, what with observing the casino floor a bit. With a bit more observation, preparation, and planning, we could pull it off."

"I see where you're coming from," Harry said with a nod. "The only problem is that we don't know what's behind the doors on the casino floor. For all we know there could be mountain trolls back there." He shared a glance with Hermione. "We need to find that out."

"But we've only got six days," Richard pointed out. "That doesn't give us much time before this thing is sealed away for good. At least, I assume it would be for good. I'm not too knowledgeable about this whole magic thing, but that's what I got out of the note."

"As did I," Remus agreed. "And you make a good point. Time is of the essence here. Fortunately, there are several of us. I almost think we should go back again tonight to see if we can get through one of those doors. See if we can find out what's in the back, maybe see if we can find the security office. I'm willing to wager we'll have to get in there somehow and disable the security systems at some point. But I almost think I'm getting ahead of myself."

"At this point, we should just have an idea of what the layout of the place is," Sirius said, agreeing with his friend. "The only problem is that I think it would look a bit conspicuous if all of us waltzed into the back of the house and started to wander around. I don't think more than one person would be able to pull it off, personally."

"So then how do we want to do this?" Harry asked. "I'm assuming that there are cameras in the back as well as on the casino floor, so we have to deal with those. I did bring my cloak, if that's any consolation."

"James's cloak?" Sirius asked. "Oh, the times we used to have with that thing…"

"But wouldn't it look a bit weird if the cameras saw a door opening only to have nothing come through?" Hermione asked.

"True," Harry mused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "And there's also the issue of getting the door open in the first place."

"Yeah, they're opened by personalized keycards," Richard reminded everyone. "So I'm assuming that if we took one, they'd just cancel it instantly and try and track it."

"What about the Imperious curse?" Sirius suggested. "I mean, we could use it on one of the guards and get them to open the door for us. It'd save a lot of work."

"And would land us in prison too," Hermione reminded him. "That curse is illegal here in America too. We couldn't get away with using it. Not to mention the fact that there are magic detectors on the floor, so as soon as we cast it, we'd be discovered. No, we have to come up with something else."

Silence permeated the room for several moments as its occupants considered their options, all weighing various ideas internally.

"I've got an idea," Harry announced finally, but stopped short of explaining it.

"And?" Sirius asked impatiently.

"Well, it depends on how involved you want to be Mr. Granger…I mean, Richard," Harry amended.

"What do you mean?" the elder Granger asked. "I thought I was already involved?"

"Well, I kinda thought that you thought that this was your holiday," Harry explained. "After all, it was supposed to be one in the first place. I really didn't think that you wanted to spend your entire time running around trying to rob a casino. At least, that wouldn't be my first idea for a holiday. But then again, what do I know?"

"I could do it," Richard volunteered from his seat on the sofa. "At least, I assume that's what you're asking."

"Huh?" Sirius asked. "Are you sure?"

"I'm liable to agree with Sirius here," Remus agreed. "You have no stake in this, so why should you put yourself on the line for us? This was supposed to be a holiday for you."

"Yet here we are," Richard argued. "I mean, Ellen and I have come all this way, so we might as well do something, right?" He looked to his wife for confirmation, and received a nod from her. "Besides, we are involved. Hermione here is involved, which means we are too…" he trailed off.

"And?" Sirius asked expectantly.

"And we know what these Death Eaters do, or want to do, to muggles like us. So if we can do anything to stop them, then we'll do it. It's an opportunity to make a difference, to do something worthwhile. Even if it is technically illegal.

"And what do you think about this, Ellen?" Remus asked.

She shrugged in response. "Don't look at me, this is his decision. He can do with himself what he likes. As for the whole holiday issue, I do happen to agree with him. Personally, I think it's kinda like a holiday for us to even get involved in the magical world at all, so it's not really an issue. Besides, I think it'd be kinda fun. Almost like a spy thriller or something. So count me in. But why do you ask, Harry?"

"Well, what if Richard here was a new employee?" Harry posed to the others. "And what if he forgot his card?"

There were a few looks of understanding and realization around the room as he proposed his plan.

"But there are a few things that need to happen in order for it work right," he added.

"So what do you want me to do, Harry?" Richard asked.

"Well, I was thinking…"

End of Chapter 9

A/N: I just want to thank all of you for the overwhelmingly positive response I've received, both for chapter 8, as well as for the story in general. The number of reviews I received after posting chapter 8 was larger than any other single chapter post I've ever made, so thank you for that. Of course, there were a few negative reviews in there, all from the same person who reviewed three prior chapters. However, in no way do I expect this story to appeal to everyone, and since everyone is entitled to their own likes and dislikes, they are free to review this story however they like.

I also want to mention those who correctly guessed the title of this chapter: Kyprioth's crow, Kingswriter, acam, Fallen-Petals15, AnnaDruvez, luvsanime02, and MariusDarkwolf. That's more than have ever correctly guessed a single chapter so far, so well done!

There are a few things to talk about though (I always seem to find something to talk about here), mainly revolving around some things mentioned in a few reviews. One reviewer mentioned that the level of gambling in chapter 7 was a bit much and got somewhat boring. In response, I will say this: while the story does take place in Las Vegas, gambling will not play a major role. There will be times throughout the story where gambling will play a part in the plot, but they will be few. Granted, there are times, such as in this chapter, and in the next, when the characters find themselves on slot machines or playing some kind of game. However, in the vast majority of those instances, the gambling will take a back seat to the dialogue or whatever else is going on. In those situations, the casino and gambling simply set the backdrop for the scene.

A couple of reviewers mentioned the possibility that the dealer 'Al' could be someone else. I am not going to touch that possibility at all. Al will re-appear in this story, so have no fear. However, his full back story will not appear for a while. The only thing to bear in mind is that the reason Al recognized Harry was that he checked his fake passport. There was not necessarily anything else going on there.

**Chapter Title Hint:** As we can see from the end of this chapter, the characters are going to rush head-first into formulating their plan, since they've got a new goal. While that previous sentence contains a few hints, let me give you some information about the song. It was written by guitarist Brian May for his solo album "Back to the Light." However, this song was changed to a Queen song when he heard Freddie sing it. The video for this song is the last color music video featuring Freddie Mercury.

Since I'm not really too concerned with giving this chapter title away, I will mention one other thing I realized recently. I was listening to my CD version of "Greatest Hits II" in my car the other day, and I realized that chapters 9 and 10 of this story correspond to tracks 9 and 10 of that compilation. So, if you can't figure out the title of the song from the hint I gave above, this will give you the correct answer.

Anyway, thank you all for the positive response you've given this story so far, and I hope you continue to enjoy it. Please let me know if you do by leaving me a review. Since I can't think of much else to talk about here, I'll see you soon with chapter 10.


	10. Headlong

Chapter 10

**Headlong**

"_So what do you want me to do, Harry?" Richard asked._

"_Well, I was thinking you could pose as the new employee. You would have lost your keycard, so you'll need to get someone else to open the door for you."_

"_Sounds a bit simple, Harry," Hermione observed._

"_That's because it is. Of course, we'll need some kind of distraction so that the real employee doesn't get much time to think about it. That's where a couple others come in. Minerva, you'll need to be in on the distraction."_

"_Right," she agreed. "Who'll be with me?" She looked around the room to see who would be joining her. Finally, one raised their hand._

"_I'll do it."_

* * *

><p><em>July 25, 2011<em>

_6:19 PM_

_The Merlin, Casino_

Richard Granger emerged from the restroom near the front entrance to the casino of The Merlin, his appearance completely altered. His previously thick brown hair had been exchanged for thinning silver hair, and he now sported a thin mustache to match his new locks. Whereas he had previously been of average build, standing at about 1.8 meters, or five feet, nine inches, he had gained another three inches in height, but had gained some weight as well. He now appeared to be a six-foot tall, heavyset man in his mid-fifties. As per the discussion in Minerva's room, Richard had had his voice changed as well, eliminating his British accent and replacing it with an American one instead. This had been accomplished through the use of a modified translation charm, placed on his vocal cords by Remus.

His clothing had been modified as well. In order to save time, Minerva had transfigured his normal clothing into the traditional garb of a security officer at The Merlin. While he had previously been dressed in a plain dark red t-shirt and faded jeans, he was now clad in a dark blue tunic inlaid with gold trim, accompanied by black slacks. The nametag affixed to his tunic indicated that his new name was 'Stan.'

As he emerged from the restroom carrying a bag containing Harry's invisibility cloak, he caught sight of Harry, Hermione, and Ellen, sitting at one bank of slot machines near the restroom. Across the casino, he could see Sirius at another machine with Minerva, while Remus milled around after having exited the restroom a moment before Richard after changing his appearance.

After waiting around for a moment while observing the casino floor, Richard finally spotted an actual member of the resort's security staff heading toward a door labeled "Resort Staff Only," near the cashier cage. Richard immediately took off, walking quickly in order to intercept the man before he went through the door.

Just as the real employee reached for the door handle, Richard arrived. He noticed that the employee appeared to be in his early twenties and of average build, wearing a nametag that identified him as 'Chris.'

"Hey…um…Chris," Richard began frantically, making an obvious show of looking at the nametag. "I'm really up shit creek here. See, this is my first day and…shit! I lost my card somewhere and I can't find it at all. I just need to get through the door here and see if I dropped it-"

"Excuse me!" a female voice shrieked from behind him.

Both Richard and Chris turned to find Minerva rushing toward them. The panicked look on her face belied her mood, and Richard could sense a cringe from Chris, who was standing next to him.

"Excuse me!" Minerva repeated just as she reached the pair. She grabbed Chris by the sleeve tightly as she spoke frantically. "That man over there…I just left for a moment…he took my machine!" she explained shakily to the wide-eyed young guard.

Chris threw up his hands defensively, a difficult task due to Minerva's grip on his sleeve. "Now, just calm down ma'am and-"

"I will not calm down! He is over there playing with my money! Money that I worked long and hard to earn! I travelled all the way over here to play, and I don't have much money mind you because of my pension, only to have some deranged lunatic take my machine and money!"

Richard could see Chris roll his eyes before he looked past Minerva toward the machine at which she was pointing. Sure enough, there was someone sitting there. Despite his scraggly appearance and shoulder-length hair, Richard knew that it was Sirius who was playing the machine.

"I was um, just going on break," Chris stammered in his defense, looking to Richard for help. "Can't you just handle this?"

"'Handle this?'" Minerva asked. "Is that how you talk about your guests? I'm not some problem that can just be handed off to the next unsuspecting sap!"

"Look man," Richard began, trying his best to keep English terminology out of the conversation, "I just need to get in there. If I stay and help this guest, then I won't be able to get in, will I? Besides, I think you'd know how to handle it better, since you've been here longer than I have…right?" He added a note of uncertainty to the end of his argument in order to imply that his knowledge of the resort staff was not yet fully developed.

"Will you just come take care of the situation?" Minerva demanded. "Look, all I want you to do is just scare him off or get my money back or something. And no offense to you," she looked at Richard, "but you just wouldn't fit the bill."

"Nah, I shouldn't take offense at that, should I?" Richard muttered. "Look," he continued in an audible tone, "it shouldn't take that long to take care of the situation, right? So why don't you just let me in then go help this nice lady. That way you can solve both problems at the same time. Then you can have your break without having to worry about anything."

Chris's eyes shifted between the two for a moment before he made up his mind. "Fine," he groaned as he threw up his hands in defeat. He pulled his keycard from his belt and slid it through the reader. Instantly, the light on the reader turned green and his name was displayed, both of which were accompanied by an audible click as the door unlocked.

"Thanks man," Richard offered with complete honesty as he reached for the handle and pulled the door open. He did not look back at Chris or Minerva as he walked through the door, allowing it to close behind him.

As soon as Richard had disappeared, Minerva refocused her attention on her ploy. "Now help me with this moron!" she demanded, dragging Chris toward the machine where Sirius was playing.

"Um…sir…?" Chris began tentatively as the pair reached Sirius. Sirius, for his part, spun on his stool and looked at the two newcomers expectantly as he pressed the button on his machine to play once more.

"Ugh!" Minerva exclaimed at Chris's nervous tone. "You obviously don't know how to handle the situation! And while you're standing here pussyfooting about, he's spending more of my money!"

"Your money?" Sirius asked in bewilderment. "What in the bloody hell are you on about, woman?"

"You know full well what I'm on about," she screeched in an attempt at hiding her British accent. "I stood up for just one moment to stretch and move around and you come prancing in here and taking my seat! And now you're playing with my credits! That's what I'm on about!"

Chris glanced between the two briefly. "Sir, did you take her seat?" he asked diplomatically.

"I most certainly did not," Sirius maintained fervently. "All I did was sit down here and began to play. I put in my own money and everything, so I have no idea her problem is."

"My 'problem?' My 'problem' is that you are playing with _my_ money on that machine!" Minerva argued. "_My_ money was on there originally. All you did was add some of your own!"

Chris made a downward gesture with his hands in an attempt to calm Minerva down. "Ma'am, let's just calm down here, we don't want to make a scene."

"I'll make a scene as much as I damn well please!" she shrieked. "I was just sitting here," she sat down on the stool next to Sirius, roughly in the middle of the row of six machines, "playing for a while, when I just wanted to stand up for a moment and move around. I was only gone for a minute when I found _him_," she pointed derisively at Sirius, "sitting on the machine playing as if his life depended on it. He took my machine!"

"Well who leaves their money on a machine and leaves anyway?" Sirius asked, pointing out the obvious.

"Someone who was coming right back!" Minerva argued.

"Well it doesn't matter anyway," Sirius continued. "I tell you woman, there wasn't anything on this machine when I got here!"

"Are you absolutely certain it was _this_ machine?" Chris asked Minerva, balancing the arguments of both guests.

"Absolutely!" she exclaimed, staying seated on the machine next to Sirius. "See? Lemme show you!" She touched the screen to bring the machine to life. As soon as the screen changed to the normal game screen, she paused. There, on the bottom-right corner of the screen, was a box that stated that the credits available on that machine totaled more than one thousand.

"What did I tell you?" Sirius asked triumphantly as Minerva pretended to examine the screen closer. "With old age comes senility, that's what I've always said."

Chris's head jerked back in astonishment at that last comment, taken aback that Sirius would be so brazen. "Sir, maybe it would be best if you two played in different areas of the casino?" he suggested.

"I'm staying right where I am, thank you very much," Sirius said boldly. "She was the one who made the mistake, not me. So I'm not gonna move."

"I'll leave," Minerva acquiesced sheepishly as she pushed the button to cash out her machine. An instant later, after the voucher had printed she rose and left Sirius and Chris, offering nary an apology to either.

"Bitch," Sirius muttered.

Chris did not respond verbally, but instead offered Sirius a shrug before turning and heading back to the door that Richard had caught him at. A moment later, he stepped through, and the door closed behind him.

As soon as the door closed, Minerva approached Sirius from the opposite direction of that which she had left in, and sat down on the other side of him. "Were you able to sufficiently air your grievances against me, Mr. Black?" she whispered.

Sirius shook his head and chuckled. "You know me, Minnie, always willing to help out where needed."

"And it just so happened that this was just a glorified prank?" she asked.

"Details, details. But do you think we gave Richard enough time to get out of that bloke's way?" They did not expect that Richard would be able to fully survey the back of the house in the few minutes that they would be distracting the guard. However, the goal had been to buy him enough time to hide or get out of sight, once the guard actually went through the door. It wouldn't do to be caught wandering about by the same person who had let him through the door in the first place.

"I haven't a clue," Minerva responded. "But I'd wager that we'll find out soon enough, won't we?"

* * *

><p><em>July 25, 2011<em>

_6:21 PM_

Richard Granger, disguised as a new member of the security staff at The Merlin named 'Stan,' closed the door to the casino floor softly before turning and taking stock of his new surroundings. Just inside the door, he found a wide, stark white hallway that sloped gently downward. Charcoal gray handrails lined the sides of the four meter wide passage, while the bright fluorescent overhead lights reflected brilliantly off of the matching charcoal laminate floor. A single security camera hung from the ceiling, pointed directly at the door.

Peering down the hall, Richard could see that it was approximately fifty meters long, and bore walls that were completely naked aside from the rails. At the end, he could see a T-shaped intersection, with a single door in the middle of the visible wall.

Making his way down the hallway, Richard could consciously feel the downward slope, which brought to mind the possibility that he was travelling underground, albeit at a gradual pace. However, he kept up a consistently fast pace as he walked, glancing over his shoulder occasionally to make sure he was not being followed.

As he reached the junction, Richard found that there was a label next to the single door, indicating that the room was the actually "Break Room 2." Using this room as a landmark, Richard looked to either side down both of the branching paths to find that both were halls that were curved, seemingly to match the shape of the casino above. Each hall curved in the opposite direction of the other, yet both were full of various doors. Choosing to head to his left first, Richard did just that, passing yet another security camera positioned in front of the break room door.

As he walked, Richard found that, while many of the doors were protected with card readers similar to the ones on the casino floor, many were not, and were instead outfitted with normal locking doorknobs. This didn't confound Richard at all, as he assumed that there were some doors that did not house highly-sensitive materials. Many of the doors were labeled with names, which forced Richard to conclude that these rooms were actually offices of some sort.

However, aside from a normal door to the "Ventilation Control Room," this hall contained nothing of interest, as it ended with a door leading to the employee parking garage. Directly adjacent to that door was a labeled elevator, indicating that it led to the hotel itself.

Realizing that there was nothing of value down this hall, Richard entered the break room at the intersection between the two halls. He had been sent to find out what lay behind the scenes at The Merlin, so he figured that he might as well see everything there was to see.

As soon as he entered the break room, Richard stopped to look around. Like the hallways outside, this room was painted in a stark white, with three of the four wall of the rectangular room lined with drab gray lockers. In the center of the room, Richard could see six small round tables, each with three or four chairs surrounding them, while the far right side of the room was taken up with a pair of sofas that faced a moderate-size television which hung on the wall. Roughly a dozen various employees were scattered around the room, most of them clustered around the tables as they ate.

Not wanting to linger at the door for too long, Richard began to wander around the room, making an obvious show of searching for a lost item, especially near the lockers.

"What'cha lookin for?" a burly man asked from one of the nearby tables.

Richard looked up quickly and made eye contact. "I, um…lost my keycard somewhere," he replied, embarrassed. "I'm not sure where I dropped it, so I thought I might as well look in here."

"Well what's your name?" the man asked. "I haven't seen you around before, but if I see your card I'll give you a holler."

"Stan…Rickon," Richard replied as he sat down across from the man, who was dressed similarly to Richard. "It's my first day here, and I've already gone and screwed myself by losing my card."

"Hey now, don't go gettin' all bummed out about it," Richard's companion reassured him. Looking at his nametag, Richard found that his name was Morgan, which Richard found moderately amusing, considering the sheer size of the man.

"But it's my first day!" Richard protested as he glanced around the room. "It doesn't look good for me if I lose my keycard on my first day."

Morgan shrugged. "That could be. But you could always talk to Baldrek and get another one. Happens all the time."

"Baldrek?" Richard asked quietly, his interest suddenly piqued. That was a name he had not heard before.

"Yeah, you know, the guy who should have hired you." Seeing the blank look on Richard's face, Morgan scowled. "Don't tell me he pawned that off too." Richard shrugged. "Gah! The man's just about worthless. He's the head of security for this place but he doesn't do anything. It's almost like he's sitting on his hands waiting for something to happen."

"What do you mean?"

"He's just about as useless as anyone could possibly be. We've been understaffed as far as security goes ever since we opened a few years ago. I'm not sure what that Malfoy guy sees in him, but his security measures are a joke. From what I can see, all he uses are cameras and a few microphones for security, nothing else." From this, Richard was able to conclude that Morgan was definitely not privy to the magical side of security for the resort. "And his attitude…don't even get me started on that. The man clearly wasn't made for security; he's just so lackadaisical about it. He almost seems more worried about rubbing elbows with the bigwigs than with making sure us little people have the resources we need to do our job. But then again, he did get someone new hired," he added, nodding toward Richard, "so I guess maybe it's not as bad as it seems."

"Well, we'll see," Richard replied vaguely. "Anyway," he continued, picking up his bag and rising from his seat, "I'd better keep looking for my card, just in case I find it. I don't want to have to get a new card on my first day. It'd just look bad, if you know what I mean."

"Yeah, I feel ya man. Anyway, I'll see you around, alright?"

"Erm…yeah," Richard responded, as he turned and walked back to the door.

Exiting the break room, Richard found himself back at the junction between the two halls, and made his way down the other hallway. However, almost as soon as he passed the break room, he saw that there were indeed more keycard readers in front of the doors in this hallway, leading him to conclude that there were more sensitive targets on this side. Despite this fact, however, this hallway was much shorter than the other, stretching for approximately twenty meters before ending.

As he traversed this passage, Richard quickly spotted a door, accessible only by keycard, with a prominent label that read, "Security Office. Level 5 Clearance Required."

Despite being intrigued by this door, as it promised at least a modicum of control over the resort's security systems, Richard was unable to access it, as he lacked a keycard. However, based on the fact that a particular clearance level was required to access the room, further credibility was added to the argument that they would not be able to simply steal a card and have free reign over the resort. They needed some other way to get around. But that was a matter to be discussed at a later time. Instead, his current task was simply to find out as much as he could about the layout of this part of the casino.

Interested more in what lay at the end of this hall, Richard pressed on, passing doors that led to the Cashier Cages, and others that led to various maintenance rooms. Based on the various rooms he could see, Richard concluded that this side of the hall was predominantly occupied by operations-related rooms, rather than executive and managerial rooms.

However, his train of thought was interrupted as he reached the end of the short hall, where another elevator door was positioned. As opposed to the previous elevator at the far end of the passage, this was completely unmarked. In fact, the only thing, aside from the double doors, that indicated that it was an elevator was the small button next to it adorned with a down arrow. Nothing else about the door or its surroundings indicated its destination.

Just as he went to examine the door closer, Richard heard a door close behind him. He whirled around to find a pit boss, dressed in the traditional maroon tunic, looking at him curiously.

"Were you looking for something?" the balding, middle-aged man asked as he took in Richard's posture.

Richard immediately straightened up and smoothed out his blue tunic. "I…erm…just lost my keycard," he explained, trying to sound embarrassed when he was actually nervous. "I was just looking around for it, and thought I might've dropped it over here."

"By the vault elevator?" the newcomer asked suspiciously.

Richard shrugged. "Well, see, this is my first day, so I was looking around the place earlier, trying to find out where everything was, and I think I might've dropped it."

"Right…" the pit boss trailed off. "Did you need some help finding it?"

Richard shook his head fervently. "Nah, that's alright," he said. "I might have dropped it on the casino floor, to tell you the truth. I might as well look out there just to make sure."

"Do you know your way out?"

"I think I can find my way on my own," Richard said, trying to get the pit boss to leave so that he could continue on his mission.

"I don't want you to get any more lost," the other man began, "so I'll just show you out."

"You don't have to do that. I mean, I don't want you to have to go out of your way for me or anything."

The pit boss's eyes narrowed slightly in heightened suspicion. "It's no problem," he said. "I was just heading out onto the floor myself, so I'd be more than happy to walk you out there." His tone of voice left little doubt as to his intentions: he was going to walk Richard to the casino floor.

"Well, if you don't mind," Richard conceded with a small, inaudible sigh. He then followed the man back to the junction, where they turned left and headed back up the ramp to the door at the end. A moment later, they reached the door, and the pit boss slid his card through the card reader before pulling the door open for Richard. Resignedly, Richard stepped through, followed closely by his companion.

* * *

><p><em>July 25, 2011<em>

_6:22 PM_

Having watched the altercation between Richard, Minerva, Sirius, and the unsuspecting security officer, Harry, Hermione, and Ellen turned back to their respective slot machines and waited. They had already turned down two visits from the various servers on the casino floor, instead intent on looking as though they were simply a group of friends who were gambling. The fact that the Grangers and Sirius had barred Harry and Hermione from drinking any alcohol during the trip may have played a part as well, even if their current disguises meant they could pass for someone over the legal age.

"So how do you think he's doing?" Harry asked with a sidelong glance toward the door that Richard had disappeared through.

"Honestly, Harry," Ellen began, "Richard's never been the best liar. Granted, I've been married to him long enough to see though any lies he tries to pass off, but I still don't think he was necessarily the best for the job."

"I thought it would be best to have a muggle do it," Harry reminded her, bringing up part of the discussion from earlier in the day. "I'm sure that a lot of the stuff back there is muggle, so I thought that someone who at least had something of an understanding of it all would be best."

"We'll see then, won't we?" she asked. "I just hope you people are good at breaking people out of prison, if it comes to that, that is."

"Oh, honestly mum," Hermione groaned with a roll of her eyes. "At the very least he's good at keeping secrets, which has got to count for something, right? He's always been able to keep gifts secret, just like that time he surprised me with a trip to the natural history museum for my birthday even though he wanted to go just as badly."

"You went to a museum for your birthday?" Harry asked.

"I know, Harry, that doesn't sound like the most fun thing in the world for you. But remember, I'm interested in that kinda stuff. It's fun for me."

"I wasn't questioning why you went," Harry countered. "I was just asking because that just sounds like an odd thing to do for a birthday. If that's what's fun for you, then by all means, do it. I just thought it sounded odd, that's all."

"And what, pray tell, would you do for your birthday?" she asked with a single raised eyebrow.

Harry shrugged in response. "I haven't really thought about it," he replied honestly. "I haven't been able to do much for my birthdays…ever. This holiday is the best thing anyone's done for me anywhere near my birthday. Unless you count the World Cup, of course. But that turned kinda messy, remember?"

"It did?" Ellen asked. "What do you mean, 'messy?' All Hermione told us was that there was a bit of a commotion after the game. Is that what you're talking about?"

Harry's eyes darted from Hermione to her mother, both of whom were awaiting his response. "You could say that," he conceded finally. "But it was really just the start to an eventful year," he finished sheepishly.

"Uh, huh," Ellen replied with heavy skepticism. She would just have to corner Harry later in order to learn more about Hermione's life away from her and her husband.

As she finished speaking, Ellen saw the same door that Richard had walked through open once more, and her husband stepped out, accompanied by another man. The pair split after emerging, with the stranger heading off in the direction of the craps tables. Richard, for his part, stopped just outside the door and made eye contact with Remus, who was examining a brochure on the resort's Player's Club. With a jerk of his head toward the restroom, Richard made his way into that room, followed shortly thereafter by Remus. A moment later, the two stepped out once more, Richard having returned to his normal appearance.

"I think that's our cue," Ellen stated, cashing out her meager winnings and rising from her seat. After a visit to one of the various cash machines scattered about the casino floor, the trio met up with Remus, Richard, Sirius, and Minerva, who were waiting near one of the side exits from the building. Like most other Las Vegas resorts, The Merlin utilized several entrances and exits from the casino floor.

"So how'd it go?" Harry asked as the group reconvened.

"Less than well," Richard replied as they emerged from the building to face the sinking Las Vegas sun. "But that's really a discussion for another time. Maybe over supper, since it's getting there fast."

"A little hesitant to talk about it?" Sirius ribbed. "Didn't go all too well, did it?"

"That's enough Padfoot," Remus chided. "He said he'd talk about it later, so we'll let him do just that."

"How'd you make out though?" Richard asked his wife, changing the subject to the gambling she had done while he was undercover.

"I made about ten dollars. Not great," she added, "but enough to buy a few litres of petrol when we get home."

"Are you really expecting your winnings to make it home with us? They'll probably find their way back into a machine or onto a table before the day's out."

"I just figured if I denied it, maybe it wouldn't happen," she jested. "But, not to change the subject, what are we doing? It just seems like we're standing here." She was right. After leaving the Merlin, the group had, in essence, remained stationary as the various members joked around. "No offense," Ellen continued, "but I don't really fancy going back to the rooms just yet. We were just there, and I'm sure there are better options for food in a city like this. Maybe we could try wandering around and see what's what?"

"Sure," Sirius agreed with a shrug. "I've been hankerin-"

"You did _not_ just say that," Harry groaned.

"Anyway, I've been hankerin," Sirius repeated, smiling directly at Harry, "to try some of the places here. Granted, I can pretty much say that I've seen all there is on this side of our hotel, just by virtue of walking to and from The Merlin. Of course, I haven't actually been in them, but I'm a smart bloke. I already know what's inside."

"Do you now?" Remus asked. "Then please, enlighten me."

"Another time perhaps," Sirius promised hollowly. "But I don't think it'll do any harm to wander around on the other side of where we're staying for a change. It'd give us a change of scenery at the very least."

Richard waved his hand as if to cede control to Sirius. "Well then, by all means, lead the way."

"Gladly."

And so, Sirius set off toward the MGM, the rest of the group in tow.

"Think he has any clue where he's going?" Hermione asked as they fell into formation behind Richard and Ellen.

"Not a chance in hell," Harry replied.

"Harry!" she hissed.

"What?"

"Watch your language! I don't need my mum hearing you talk like that."

"Oh, really?" Harry asked, his curiosity piqued. "And why, pray tell, would that be?"

"I don't want her to think that I'd be friends…or anything with someone who talks like that!" she stammered, trying to find the right words.

"But I've heard your dad talk like that, and I've only known him for a week. I can only imagine what he's like the rest of the time. Yet your mum seems to like him just fine."

"But it's still not an image I want her, or my dad, to have of me. See, while there was a bit of…course language tossed around as I was growing up, it was almost like expensive seasoning to a conversation. But my parents kinda raised me to not talk like that. They always maintained that if you use language like that, your vocabulary is quite limited, since you can't come up with something better to say. That always seemed to fit with me, the studious one, so I worked on improving my vocabulary more. So please, can you at least try to watch your language? At least around my parents and me? I'd really appreciate it."

Harry studied her carefully as the glow of the sinking sun framed her chestnut curls in a majestic radiance, her eyes wide in pleading. He just couldn't deny her request, especially given the way she looked at that moment. _Not again_, he reminded himself. _It's just a trick of light, that's all_.

"Sure, Hermione," he replied. "I'll do it…for you." He wrapped his arm around her torso and pulled her tight against his side in what he hoped was an innocent one-armed hug. However, she, in turn, laid her head on his shoulder briefly as he did so.

"Thanks, Harry," she whispered.

Harry held them in that comfortable position briefly as they continued to walk. The fact that they were bringing up the rear of the group meant that they had greater lease with which to act, without fear of embarrassment. However, as soon as he realized this fact, Harry released his grip on Hermione, who seemed to tentatively step away, as she straightened her snug tee. And it was perfectly timed, too, as the group stopped at a crossing, gathering together once more. At this point, they were directly across from the MGM, and crossing this final street would bring them to their hotel.

"Have any idea on where you want to go yet, Sirius?" Harry asked somewhat awkwardly.

"We haven't even reached our hotel yet, cub," Sirius replied. "How would I know already? But since it won't really be supper time for another hour or so, I almost think we have enough time to explore a bit; see some of the other casinos and see what they have to offer. I can tell you one thing, I don't want to eat at that restaurant at The Merlin…what was it called again?"

"Merlin's Cauldron?" Minerva supplied helpfully, having remembered the name from her previous scouting of the resort.

"Yeah, that's it. I don't trust Lucius not to poison his guests, especially if he has an inkling that I'm there."

The signal changed to allow the group, and the pedestrians on the other side of the street, to cross.

"Wouldn't he target Harry first?" Hermione asked.

"That's a rosy prospect," Richard muttered. "Just makes the boy out to have a giant target painted on his back."

"Hermione, Hermione, Hermione," Sirius scolded lightly with a shake of his head. "My ego won't allow me to accept that anyone could target someone else before me. I'm just too devilishly handsome,-"

"Yeah, that's it," Remus murmured.

"-charismatic, and too much of an all-around good guy for the baddies not to target."

"Right," she said patronizingly.

"So, anyway," he continued, "we're finally past the MGM, so now we're into new territory? What new adventures lie just over the horizon?"

"Stop with the theatrics will you?" Remus complained. "It's not funny, nor is it even remotely dramatic. It's just pathetic, really."

"Well," Richard began, trying to strike up a meaningful conversation, "we've got New York New York over there," he nodded toward the faux cityscape.

"No," Ellen shot him down immediately. "New York food isn't distinctive at all. It's just a mix of everyone else's food. Try again."

"Alright…" Richard continued. "There's that big glass…thing over there," he pointed to the large, modern-looking glass complex next to New York New York.

"The Aria," Hermione informed the rest of the group.

"How do you know that?" Harry asked.

"It says so on the building," she pointed out obviously.

Harry squinted and found that the resort was indeed known as The Aria. "So what can you tell me about it then?" he pressed.

"Absolutely nothing," she replied instantly.

"Next then," Harry concluded.

"My, aren't we a picky lot tonight?" Richard complained.

"No, we're just particular," Ellen retorted.

"What about there?" Sirius asked, pointing ahead at a scale model of the Eiffel Tower.

"Paris?" Richard asked in confusion. "Why in the world would you want to go there? We live right across from France itself! Why would you want to go to a cheap imiatation?"

"Hey!" Sirius exclaimed, throwing up his hands in his own defense, "I was just making a suggestion. At least it'll be neutral and something that we're used to. Besides, we don't even know what the restaurants in these places are like. We're making judgments without knowing all of the facts."

"Wow, Sirius, that was deep," Harry joked. "Normally you're the one to jump feet-first into a situation, wand blazing."

"Oh, you're a real jokester, Harry," Sirius replied sarcastically. "But I'm serious-"

"We know," Remus interrupted.

"Will everyone stop interrupting me?" Sirius paused to look around the group. "Thank you. Now, I figured that we could just go inside, take a look around, and see if anything strikes our fancy."

"For once, Mr. Black, you actually make some sense," Minerva interjected, speaking for the first time in a long while. "I don't know that it will do much harm to simply look around inside. At the very least we'll find something that is at least somewhat neutral and will be fine for everyone."

The rest of the group begrudgingly accepted the proposal, which seemed to carry greater credibility with the wizened Minerva behind it. That decided, they entered what appeared to be the front entrance of Paris, located behind one of the lefts of the miniature Eiffel Tower.

* * *

><p><em>July 25, 2011<em>

_7 PM_

"What about there?" Sirius asked, pointing to yet another restaurant located inside Paris. This was the third time he had suggested a particular restaurant, and each of the previous two times, he had been shot down.

"Well, at least this one looks kinda…normal," Richard observed. Despite the fact that he had lived in Britain his entire life, he had never acquired much fondness for French cuisine. The other two restaurants that Sirius had suggested both seemed to be too…French for his tastes. This one however, known as Les Artistes Steakhouse, seemed like it served food that he found more palatable.

"Have you looked at the menu, Richard?" Ellen asked shrilly, reading the one posted in the window.

"No," he replied as he walked up to her side and glanced at the menu. Sure enough, he found prices that were consistent with his expectations for an upscale restaurant. However, despite their income, the Grangers did not frequent restaurants of such high cost. "It does look a bit pricey," he admitted, glancing at Sirius.

"But what isn't?" Sirius asked rhetorically. "I didn't bring money on this trip to look good whenever I open the safe in my room. I brought it to spend. I intend to spend every last bit of the money I brought. It's not doing me any good sitting in a vault at home, and I kinda want to get rid of it, since a lot of it is blood money from my family's past."

"Really?" Ellen asked, now curious.

"Yeah, but that's a story for another time," Sirius replied. "Trust me, it's a long story. But for now, let me do this for you. Come on, price isn't an issue."

The two adult Grangers made eye contact briefly before Ellen finally sighed and nodded slightly.

"Fine with us," Richard announced. "But what about the rest of you lot?" He looked around at the rest.

"I'm not a big fan of seafood," Harry informed them as he stepped forward to look at the map. "Granted, that may be because my last experience with it came from some burnt bass Aunt Petunia made. Uncle Vernon raved about it, naturally. But it was bloody-" his eyes quickly darted to Hermione, "pretty awful," he corrected. "But it looks like there's at least something other than seafood, so I'm fine with it."

Agreement was garnered from the other members of the group. Happy with this decision, Sirius made for the door, only to be beaten by a young couple, who opened the door and rushed inside before Sirius had the chance.

"Well that was rude," Sirius commented idly. "But at least someone else thinks this place is a good idea." He opened the door and led the way inside, finding a small reception desk just inside. A lone man followed the group inside, adding credence to Sirius's theory about the quality of the restaurant.

"Table for…seven, please," Richard said, taking the lead from Sirius as the hostess greeted them. "Under Granger."

The hostess looked at her map briefly before looking back up at Richard. "Actually, Mr. Granger, I can seat you right now. It's actually been kinda slow tonight; weekday night and all that. So if you'll follow Julian here." She nodded toward the young man standing next to her, dressed in the classic, yet elegant combination of a white shirt and solid black tie.

Richard shrugged and did as she suggested, leading the group into the dining room and allowing the next customer, the lone man who had entered after the group, to ask for his table.

"Table for one, please," he said as the Granger party left, "under Daltrey."

* * *

><p>"So what's everyone gonna have?" Richard asked, trying to strike up a conversation around the table. Ever since they had been handed their menus, the members of the party had been too engrossed in reading it to make any sort of small talk.<p>

"I'm thinking the filet," Harry said. "Twelve ounces, of course."

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed from the other side of the table as she looked at the price. "Did you even look at the price of that?"

"Hermione," Sirius interjected from his seat next to Harry, "this is my treat. Harry can have whatever he wants. I personally think it's a great choice myself. But if you want to see something expensive, you should see what I'm getting. I'm thinking of getting a ten ounce Kobe."

Hermione looked at her menu, and her eyes bugged out as soon as she looked at the price of Sirius's meal.

"So a forty-five dollar steak for Harry here is nothing compared to my hundred and fifty dollar steak," Sirius concluded. "I really don't care either way. Just get whatever you want and I'll be more than happy to pay for it. This is my treat, remember? After all, this is supposed to be a holiday, so can't we just enjoy ourselves for a bit without having to worry about anything?"

Hermione begrudgingly accepted his logic and continued on her quest to find her ideal entrée. "I guess I'm just not too keen on the red meats," she admitted, ignoring that section of the menu completely.

Harry had never known this about Hermione, and had to call her on it. "What do you mean? Is it the whole hunting thing?" he asked timidly, not wanting to trample on any potential political views. But to his relief, Hermione shook her head in the negative.

"Nah, it's just that I don't really like the taste. It always seems a bit too…meaty, if you get what I'm saying."

To be honest, Harry really didn't understand where she was coming from, but then again, he rarely got the opportunity to partake of the finer meats. But he had to be honest with her. "Not really," he admitted. "But to each their own, I guess. I really don't care if you don't like the taste, so long as you don't get too preachy on me about eating it."

"Now when have I ever been 'preachy' with you?" she asked, making direct eye contact with him.

Under her unwavering gaze, Harry didn't have the heart to mention the various situations where she had preached the virtues of studying, paying greater attention in class, or better organization. And he especially didn't have the heart to bring up her obsession with freeing the house-elves that she had, thankfully, seemed to grow out of, at least somewhat.

"I wasn't referring to one situation in particular," he replied timidly. "I was just talking…in principle. That's all."

"Right…" she said as the waiter arrived to take their orders. In the end, Hermione chose a simple chicken breast with a potato gnocchi and mushrooms. Harry had to admit that it sounded good, but was still satisfied with his selection. After all, if he was given the opportunity to eat well, he was going to take it.

After the waiter had left, Harry brought up the events of the day once more.

"So now that we're here," he began, addressing Richard, "should we talk about what went on earlier?"

Richard played with his napkin briefly before setting it back on the table. "Well, I can't say it went particularly brilliantly," he admitted. "Well, I can say it went swimmingly to start with, that much is certain. Sirius, Minerva, your ploy to get me in there worked great. I think I kinda cocked up inside though."

"How so?" Ellen asked, concerned.

"Well, I guess I'll just tell the whole story. I got inside and found a long, wide hall that sloped down, going underground. At the end, it branched in two, with a door to an employee break room in the middle. The left side hall didn't really have much except offices, maintenance rooms such as the ventilation control room, and parking garage access. Most of these doors were not locked by keycard, since they aren't really that important. The other hall, however, was a different story. This hallway, while shorter, had more doors with keycard sliders. This hall housed the security office, which looked like it could only be opened by a keycard with the right authorization level. That's a problem, but I'll talk about it later. Anyway, I looked around in this hall a bit and found an elevator at the end. But at this point, I was found by a pit boss, who didn't buy my excuse of losing my keycard, and escorted me back onto the casino floor. But not until he had inadvertently revealed that the elevator led to the vault. I'm really kicking myself now for not using the invisibility cloak. But I just couldn't find a spot to put it on without being spotted by the cameras. And there's also the fact that it would still look odd for doors to open and close with nobody going through. So really, all I found out was that there are levels to the keycards and where the door to the vault is."

"Well, at least that's something," Harry commented, trying to accentuate the positive. "At least we know what's back there now."

"But it throws a wrench into everything," Richard informed him. "We can't just go and steal a keycard from anyone now, since they all seem to have various access levels."

"Well, wasn't that the case before?" Remus pointed out. "I thought we decided we couldn't take a keycard in the first place?"

"True, but it was still an option that was on the table if we really wanted to use it. I also saw a lot of cameras back there too, so it seems that they take their security in the back of the house just as seriously as on the casino floor. Oh, and I also talked with a real security guard, and he told me that the head of security for the resort is a bit of a wanker. Of course, I don't think this person knows about magic, but he said that the head of security, someone named Baldrek, doesn't really do much. So that might work in our favor."

"Okay, then what do we do?" Harry asked. "We can't just wander around without being spotted, that much is obvious, since the cameras will see us."

"We could knock out the cameras," Hermione suggested.

"And how do we do that?" Richard asked. "I'm gonna assume, based on the few things I saw, that the security office would have control over those, and we can't get in there. So I'm not sure what we can do. And then there's the problem of getting off of the casino floor again the first place. I doubt we can run the same ploy all over again."

There was silence around the table as the various members of the group considered their plight. "Why do we have to force our way in?" Minerva asked finally.

"In order to find that…item," Sirius replied with slight sarcasm.

"No, I think I see what she's on about," Hermione said excitedly. "I mean, it would let us in, but what if we got them to literally open every door for us?"

"How so?" Sirius asked, now intrigued.

"We get them to evacuate the resort," she answered simply.

"Well that's easy," Remus responded with biting sarcasm.

"Watch the tone there, Moony," Sirius chided, "there are ladies present. Besides, all we have to do is come up with some kind of disaster, and everything'll be golden."

"Really, Padfoot?" Remus asked. "Then humor me. What would your grand scheme be?"

"An explosion," Sirius replied with a shrug.

"So you wanna blow up The Merlin?" Remus whispered, looking around the restaurant to make sure there were no eavesdroppers. However, all of the couples around them seemed engaged in their own conversation, and there was only one table with a single occupant, and they seemed engrossed in their menu.

"Well, it would be easier to access the vault if the entire resort was one giant hole in the ground," Sirius opined.

"Yes, and that'd be a very clean result, wouldn't it?"

"I wasn't serious, you berk," Sirius said. "But an explosion would work, I think."

"No it wouldn't," Richard offered. "Trust me, I've seen enough emergency policies and evacuation plans for businesses to know that they don't evacuate for just anything, even an explosion. You'd literally have to, like Sirius suggested, blow the whole place up. So long as the building is still structurally sound, it'll still be occupied. The same thing goes for a fire, or any other kind of disaster. So, unless everyone in the resort is threatened, they won't evacuate."

"And you're sure that'd happen here?" Sirius questioned.

"Absolutely," Richard replied emphatically. "Think of it this way: how much money does a resort stand to lose if it evacuates? First of all, there's the gambling time that's lost, so that revenue is gone. Then, there's the fact that the people who evacuate are likely to go to another casino, instead of going right back inside after the evacuation is over. They want to continue to gamble…right now. It's all about instant gratification. But the other problem is bad publicity. If a resort has to evacuate, it looks like they aren't in control of what's going on within their own property, so it generates bad word of mouth. All of this added together means that evacuating a major Las Vegas resort is, literally, a last resort."

As he finished speaking, Richard spotted their waiter returning to the table, food in hand. "I think," Richard began, "that it might be better if we continued this conversation later. It seems to be heading in an…unsavory direction."

* * *

><p><em>July 25, 2011<em>

_8:49 PM_

_The Signature at MGM Grand, Room 816_

"I have to say, Sirius," Richard began as he threw himself on the couch in McGonagall's room, "that was a brilliant meal. I'm glad you talked us into it, so thanks."

"No problem," Sirius replied as he took a seat at one of the chairs that surrounded the small dining table. "Does anyone remember where we left off?"

"Oh, you mean when we were talking about blowing up the hotel?" Remus asked sarcastically.

Sirius nodded fervently. "Yeah, that's it. I still think it's a bloody good idea myself, but I don't know about you lot."

"I still think it's a bloody terrible idea," Remus countered, "for all the points that Richard here argued back at the restaurant. Granted, now that I think about it, that might not have been the best place to be talking about something like blowing up a building."

"Why?" Sirius asked. "It's not like there was anyone from The Merlin or any of Malfoy's cronies there watching us."

"But how would you react, Mr. Black, if you were enjoying your supper when the group at the next table over started to talk about bombs and blowing up buildings?" Minerva challenged. "I'd say you'd be quite likely to report it, wouldn't you?"

Sirius shrugged. "Maybe. But what's done is done. Now we have to figure out what to do."

"We don't have the manpower or resources for a smash and grab job anyway," Richard observed. "It would be impractical and foolish to even try."

"Where'd you learn that term?" Ellen asked her husband. "You haven't been secretly gallivanting around behind my back as some kind of master thief, have you?"

Richard winked at her mysteriously. "Some secrets are better kept secret- ow!" He recoiled slightly as he grabbed his side where Ellen had just elbowed him. "No, dear," he said, correcting himself.

"That's better," Ellen said smugly. "You probably got it from a film anyway, with all the time you spend watching them."

"Ocean's Eleven, actually," Richard informed her. "So anyway, we can't pull of some daring heist or anything like that that involves us blowing things up and making some exciting escape. We aren't professional thieves, we're just a pair of dentists and a group of mismatched witches and wizards. This'll be great…" he groaned.

"Don't be so negative, Richard," Ellen chided. "Granted, it does seem a bit as though the odds are stacked against us, but don't get so depressed until it's really necessary."

"As fun as this conversation is," Harry interjected, "maybe we should actually try to come up with some ideas? I, for one, don't really like the idea of Voldemort keeping hold of something that will, in essence, let him live forever. I don't know about you, but that's not something I intend to let him keep."

"So then what's your idea?" Richard asked, his voice laced with curiosity and a hint of sarcasm.

Harry shrugged. "I dunno, really. But I do like the idea of getting the place to evacuate. You said that, normally, the only way a place of that size would evacuate is if the entire population is in danger, or if it just wasn't safe to be inside?" Richard nodded. "Then what if we created such a situation?"

"And how do you propose we put thousands of innocent people in danger?" Richard pressed. "It almost seems like you're disregarding the concept of collateral damage. I thought we were supposed to be the good guys here?"

"False danger," Hermione announced. "We could create false danger. I think that's what Harry was referring to daddy, right Harry?" She looked at her friend to find him nodding slightly. He shot her a grateful smile, which she returned with her own bright smile.

"That's what I meant," Harry continued, picking up from where he had left off. "We don't actually have to put people in danger, we just have to give them the impression that they are in danger. We need to create a panic, to put it differently. But the danger doesn't have to be real. We just have to use something that _seems_ like it'll put people in danger. The only question is what people will think would be dangerous and would create a panic."

He looked around the room briefly as he received no responses to his question. That was, until Hermione spoke up.

"A gas leak," she said quietly.

"Perfect," Harry replied loud enough for the rest to hear. However, Hermione's suggestion had been too quiet for the others.

"What was that?" Sirius asked.

"A gas leak," Hermione said louder. "We could make everyone think that there's some kind of gas leak. All we have to do is make the air smell like gas. It doesn't have to be real gas or even be dangerous, it just has to smell like gas."

"But is that really enough to incite a panic?" Ellen asked thoughtfully. "I mean, I remember learning some chemistry back at uni, and if I remember correctly, a building basically needs to be completely airtight and ready to burst with gas before it'll explode."

"Yes, but how many people know that?" Hermione posed. "It might seem logical, even rational. But since when has the general public been rational?"

"I kinda see where this is going now," Richard interjected. "And she does have a point. Besides, are you really suggesting that we scare people with the danger of blowing up? No. I'm assuming you're talking about scaring people with the possibility of dying by gas exposure. There's a reason that they make gas smell so bad: it's poisonous. So, and this is pure speculation, I'm assuming that your plan is to mimic the smell of gas, but not the poisonous properties of it?"

"Right," Harry said, nodding. "That's all I'm saying. But the smell'd have to be pretty strong to make people think they're gonna die because they're breathing it."

"I'm sure there's something we could brew that'd do that," Remus suggested. "I'm no potions master by any stretch of the imagination, but I can hold my own. We could probably just use some perfume potion as a base and go from there, since you want the main purpose of this thing to be smell."

"Wait," Richard interrupted, "I still don't know that this'll work, so I don't think we should get too ahead of ourselves with planning it. I've been in plenty of places that smell like gas and nobody's running out for their lives. So what would make this different? I mean, I go into shops, even grocers sometimes that smell like gas, and I don't see anybody panicking. Sure, I might overhear some random customer complaining about it to an employee, but that's not nearly the same. How would this be any different?"

"We could blow something up," Sirius replied seriously.

"No, no, no," Richard groaned, "not this again-"

"Hold on a second," Harry began. "He could have a point. What if we did create an explosion inside the casino…after the gas is being smelled by everyone? Forget the fact that it's not physically possible for that little gas in that big of a space to ignite. People don't really know that, as Hermione already said. A small explosion or two could trigger a panic, whereas just gas might not."

"'Whereas', Harry?" Sirius asked. "You almost sound like you're growing up. Or that Hermione here's rubbing off on you. I can't decide which it is."

"You're a lecherous old man, Sirius," Harry replied. "But the point still stands. An explosion might be just what we need to make people panic."

"But what then?" Richard asked. "So we get all of the guests on the casino floor to panic. How does that help us? The resort staff won't be part of the panic, at least not all of them. So how would this distraction let us into the security office? I'm still not seeing the connection."

"How would a regular business respond to a panic?" Minerva asked the group, rather than Richard in particular. "If you owned the resort, how would you have your employees react to a massive panic by your guests, should one occur?"

Richard shrugged. "Well, the last thing I'd want is for my customers to panic, obviously. It hurts business for all the reasons I talked about back at the restaurant. So there is that to consider. If that were my main consideration, I'd get my employees to try and control the panic."

"How?" she challenged.

"I dunno," he replied. "Getting them to herd everybody back inside would be pointless because, even they could do it, nobody would want to play anymore. But I think, at best, the staff could try and convince the guests that there's nothing to worry about, that there's no danger in the first place."

"And that's probably the same thing that Mr. Malfoy would have his staff do, or at least what they're already trained to do, in such a situation. So that begs the question, how could we use such a distraction to our own ends?"

"Shouldn't we be looking at this the other way around?" Richard asked. "I mean, we're looking at it almost like we have to go with a certain plan, and finding ways for it to suit our needs. I think it might be better to figure out what our needs are, then come up with a plan that fits them."

"It might be," Harry conceded, "but we still have an idea, and it's one that I think is a pretty good one at that. It also happens to address some of the problems we need to take care of, so I don't think we should scrap it just yet. Now, onto Minerva's question: if the staff is running around trying to control the panic, I'm sure the security staff will be part of that attempt. So I'm sure they'll be going in and out of the security office, so the door will be opening and closing. All we need in that case is to be positioned just right with my cloak, and we're in."

"Then what?" Remus asked, pressing him for further details.

"I haven't gotten that far yet," Harry admitted. "But at the very least I think it'd be a good idea to start with the whole gas idea. I'm sure that if we place explosives at just the right spots, such as near a waste can where matches and lit cigarettes go, it'll sell the entire idea."

"I'll have to talk to Severus to see what we'll need," Remus informed everyone. "Under ideal circumstances, he'd be the one to brew it-"

"But he wouldn't leave the safety and security of the convent over there for long enough to do us a favor," Sirius finished derisively.

"Well, I would have put it a bit differently, but that sounds about right."

"So it sounds like some shopping's in order?" Ellen asked, her eyes lighting up at the prospect.

"Magical shopping," Harry responded. "Shopping for potion ingredients, nothing exciting." He was purposefully trying to bring her down from her excitement. The last thing he wanted was to be involved in another shopping trip that was in any way similar to the last.

"Oh," she replied, deflated. But she quickly perked back up again. "But we could go anyway," she continued. "I haven't ever really spent much time in a magical apothecary, outside of the one in Diagon Alley. And those visits are always quite short anyway, since it's so busy right before term starts; we just want to get in and out as fast as possible."

"I think that's something we can worry about in the morning," Richard announced, as he glanced at the clock to find that it was quickly approaching ten o'clock. "I don't want to speak for anyone else, but I'm knackered."

"You really have no stamina in your old age, you know that?" Ellen teased as she rose from her seat, taking the cue from her husband. However, her comment was not received as innocently as she intended, as Richard raised a single eyebrow at her in curiosity. Ellen rolled her eyes and shook her head, deciding not to dignify him with a verbal response. "Good night, everyone," she said as she made her way to the door.

As the door closed behind the pair of Grangers, Remus stood and stretched slightly, indicating that he too was preparing to leave.

"I'll send Severus a patronus and ask him to prepare a list of supplies," Minerva told him. "Hopefully we should have it by morning."

"Thanks, Minerva," he told her as he approached the door.

She then turned her attention to the teens as Sirius began to follow Remus. "And you two," she began, "had better get going as well. From the sounds of it, Harry, you had a late night last night, and I don't want you to suffer the consequences of another."

"Really?" Sirius asked with great interest. "And what were you doing until the wee hours of the morning, eh Harry?"

"Playing with my computer," Harry replied, his face flush with embarrassment. "What else did you think I'd be doing?"

The smile on Sirius's face dropped at Harry's response. "Just asking," he replied sullenly as he opened the door. "Sleep well tonight, though," he added as he left the room.

"One of these days that tongue of his is gonna get him in trouble," Harry muttered.

"Oh, trust me, Harry," Minerva said, "it has…many times over the years. But you're right. It will continue to do so as well."

End of Chapter 10

A/N: Thank you all for reading chapter 10. I will say that the response to chapter 9 was somewhat tepid, but that may be partially due to the fact that I was coming off of receiving a large number of reviews for chapter 8. Aside from that, there are a couple of things to talk about here.

First off, let me congratulate the reviewers who correctly guessed the title of this chapter: Chaotic Courtney, and luvsanime02.

Contrary to what some of you may think, I do take suggestions and reviews into account when writing. For example, one recent review mentioned the fact that Hermione's parents are annoying. I can certainly see how that could be the case. Trust me, that was not my intention, so I am changing (very slightly) how they act. I will say that there will be one more wave of deep conversations about the Harry/Hermione relationship in chapter 12, but beyond that, I don't plan for any more. At that point, the dancing will be over, and everyone will have made up their minds. Of course, part of the reason for that is that chapter 12 marks the end of act two of the story, and makes way for act three, when everything starts to happen. But don't worry, there will still be some Harry/Hermione goodness here and there before we get to the big payoff, which I am saving for the end of this story. I simply believe that, while there is a time and a place for a good parent/child chat like we've seen so far, one does eventually reach a point where they get a little tiring. I don't want those conversations to overstay their welcome, which is why they will be rarer and rarer, and will eventually disappear entirely.

Another anonymous review mentioned that Sirius was too childlike, annoying, and in no way funny. I do have a plan to develop the character of Sirius slightly over the course of the series, and that begins in chapter 12.

In total, I do apologize for the somewhat long wait for this chapter. My productivity has slowed, and it took me nearly a week to write chapter 12 due to other papers and work I had to complete. I also spent a good deal of time working on the overarching plot of this series, and I seem to have most of it hammered out at this point.

**Chapter Title Hint:** So far, Harry's had himself a real good time, and in general, he feels alive. However, what happens when he meets Mr. Daltrey? Will he stop him, or will he help him? Another hint would be that _Top Gear_ declared it the best driving song of all time, so there is that as well.

Thank you for reading this far and I hope you continue to enjoy the story. Please leave me a review if you like what you read, since nothing helps me write faster than lots of reviews. Thank you again and I'll see you soon with chapter 11.


	11. Don't Stop Me Now

Chapter 11

**Don't Stop Me Now**

_July 26, 2011_

_1:30 PM_

Despite the fact that Minerva had sent her Patronus to Snape the night before, he had taken his time to reply, with the reply coming late in the morning. However, once it did, Minerva had been quick with the hotel stationery to record the ingredients that the Potions Master had suggested. As a result, the group was now equipped with a list of potion ingredients, and the various members had been given different assignments. Sirius and Remus, due to their past prank experience, had been put in charge of developing the explosives. The goal was to create something simple that was powerful enough to attract attention and incite a panic, but not so powerful as to damage the building beyond repair. Because of their past experience, it had been decided that this should be an easy undertaking for the pair.

Richard, Ellen, and Minerva had returned to The Merlin in order to scout out which waste cans they would use as the targets for the explosives. It would not do to have a target that was well-exposed, due to the logistics of planting the explosive. But at the same time, they did not want a waste basket that was so well hidden so as not to attract any attention. A third consideration that the trio had to weigh is the frequency with which each particular can is used. While a hidden can is usually rarely used, their goal was to find a pair of cans that could feasibly be seen as having lit cigarettes thrown into them.

For their part, Harry and Hermione had been given the list of potion ingredients with the directive to complete the shopping.

Hermione tucked the folded piece of hotel stationary into the small pocket of her khaki shorts as she watched Harry slip on his sandals.

"Do you have any idea where we're going?" Harry asked as he stood from his bed. Giving in to pressure from Hermione the night before, Harry had opened up the sofa and turned it into a bed. He did have to admit however, that despite his initial reluctance, the small bed was indeed more comfortable than the sofa itself.

"Not really," she admitted as she reached behind her head to tie her hair into a ponytail. "But I can't imagine it would hurt to start at that mall we went to the other day. Or at least to wander down that way. I'm sure there's some kind of magical shopping area on the Strip. I mean, if there's a magical security officer in each hotel, and the fact that there's a magical resort in the first place, it only makes sense for there to be a magical shopping area as well."

"Makes sense," he offered. "But I'm amazed you don't already know where it's at! You, of all people, should know that!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Why is it that everyone expects me to have all the answers all of the time?" she asked. "It's like all anyone ever wants from me is my brain!"

"Aw, Hermione, you know that's not true," Harry reassured her. "You're a lot more to me than just some walking book." It was true, he had to admit. _Not that that's much of an admission,_ he reminded himself. _The same could be said of any of my friends_.

"Gee, Harry, that sound so romantic," she replied sarcastically.

_Romantic?_ He asked himself. _Well, I guess it could've kinda sounded like that… if you were under water and couldn't hear anything. Eh, oh well._ He shrugged it off, not really caring if he sounded romantic at all. Hermione, however, allowed herself a small smile when she saw his minute shrug.

"Anyway, you ready to go?" she asked. "These ingredients aren't gonna buy themselves."

"Really?" he asked. "But I thought they were magic? Hey! That brings up a good question. Why _can't_ things buy themselves in the magical world?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Are you really asking that question?"

"Well, yeah," he replied. "Think about it. Why can't the ingredients just magically float over to us and the money gets magically deducted from an account or something?"

"Because then there'd be no use for that saying I just used," she responded logically, sticking her tongue out at him.

"Oh, right," he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "And we wouldn't want that, would we?"

"Absolutely not! Now come on! We're burning daylight!" she declared, moving toward the door.

"As you command, milady." Harry stood from his temporary seat on his sofa bed and joined her in the hall, closing the door behind him.

"I just wanna check to see how Sirius and Remus are coming along," Hermione added as soon as the door closed.

"I thought you wanted to get going," Harry asked as she knocked on the Marauders' door.

"I did. And this is part of it. We can't very well leave if we don't know everything we need, can we? I just wanna make sure we don't need to get anything for them."

As she finished speaking, the door opened to reveal a haggard-looking Sirius, who yawned at the sight of the two teens.

"Hard at work I see, eh, Sirius?" Harry asked sarcastically.

"Shut it, kiddo. You don't need me to embarrass you any more than I already have about… certain things, so I suggest you leave me alone. Now, what can I do for you?"

"Well," Hermione began, "I was hoping you and Remus had maybe come up with a list of items you might need for your little… diversion, so that Harry and I could pick them up while we were out. But it looks like you just woke up, so I'll take that as a no."

"For once, Hermione, your logic fails you. See, I did just wake up, hence my current appearance. However, I can tell you that Moony is still fast asleep in there, and for good reason. We didn't get to bed until almost six this morning. We were busy all night. Don't say anything, Harry," Sirius warned. "So actually, yes, we do have a working list of what we need. Just a second."

He disappeared from the doorway, leaving Harry and Hermione alone for a moment.

"Well, that's certainly a surprise," Hermione admitted. "And here I thought he had just slept all morning long or something."

"Certainly wouldn't be outside of his character," Harry agreed. "Granted, he was always an early riser back at Grimmauld Place earlier in the summer, but I could still see it happening."

"So could I," she agreed. "He just kinda has that personality. But, oh, well. I'm just glad he got something done. I guess I'll just have to give all the credit to Remus."

"That's exactly right," Harry nodded. "Don't give any credit to Sirius. No matter what the situation is, he doesn't deserve any." He shared a quiet laugh with Hermione as Sirius returned to the door.

"What'd I miss?" Sirius asked as he saw the mirthful look on the teens' faces.

"Oh, we were just poking fun at you," Hermione replied honestly.

Harry shot her a shocked look at this response, and realized that he may have started to rub off on her. _Maybe that isn't really a bad thing…_ he mused, realizing that she sometimes needed to lighten up. If he was able to get her to exhibit that kind of behavior, then he was more than happy to do so.

"Why is it always 'poke fun at Sirius time?'" Sirius asked, pouting exaggeratedly.

"Because it's so easy," Harry replied with ease. "You really set yourself up for it, what with making fun of others and just acting childish sometimes. Granted, I don't want you to ever change, Sirius; don't get me wrong. But sometimes you make it too easy for us to make fun of you. The fact that you joke around so much at the expense of others just makes it easier."

"Wonderful… I've created a clone of James…" Sirius moaned. "Here, take the list and leave before my pride is wounded any further." He thrust another piece of hotel stationery at Hermione and closed the door before either of the teens could say anything further.

"Well, at least we got what we came for," Harry said with a shrug, discounting what Sirius had said.

"You're just gonna brush off what he said?" Hermione asked as the two walked toward the elevator. "He basically said that you're turning more and more into your father."

Instantly, Harry's mind travelled back to his final Occlumency lesson with Snape. In particular, his mind replayed the memory he had witnessed in which his father, and the other three Marauders, had tormented Snape, despite the protests of Harry's mother. Was that really what Harry wanted to grow up to be?

"You're right," he muttered as the elevator doors closed and Hermione pressed the button for the first floor.

"Wait," Hermione began, "that was supposed to be a compliment. Why are you treating it like it's a death sentence?"

Harry released a long sigh as he looked up at the red floor indicator above the door. Four more floors to go. "I don't think Sirius meant it that way," he said. "I really think he meant it more as a joke or reference to my joking around, or even as a kind of compliment. But I've heard… and seen, things about my dad that say that he wasn't the nicest bloke on the block; let's just put it that way. And from what I've seen, I don't want to be that. I don't want to be a bully."

As he finished speaking, the elevator doors opened with a chime, and Harry stepped out quickly, followed promptly by Hermione. He strode quickly toward through the long hallways to the MGM Grand casino, with Hermione struggling to keep up. Finally, she was forced to have to run to catch up. When she did so, she grabbed his arm and spun him around to face her.

"Harry, I don't know what you saw or what you've heard. But I can honestly tell you that you are no bully. You don't have it in you to do it, and Sirius knows that. He wasn't talking about you being a clone of your father when it came to that, he was talking about the joking attitude. You're too good of a person to be anything other than a perfect gentleman… except for a sometimes snarky attitude," she told him honestly as she took one of his hands in both of hers. "And I'm sure that, even if your father was a bit… unpleasant at times, he wouldn't have won over your mother if he wasn't a perfect gentleman either. That's what I like so much about you; you're too much of a gentleman to let yourself become less. So if your father could win over someone as discerning as your mother, you could win over anyone you wanted; trust me on that." She gave him a small smile and released his hand before wrapping him in a tight hug.

_This is nice,_ Harry thought idly as he melted into the hug. _I'm probably just overreacting anyway. Hermione's completely right about that; Dad probably grew out of that bully phase pretty quickly. I was probably just seeing a single snapshot of who he was, nothing more. _

Hermione released Harry from the hug after holding it for a few seconds longer than normal. "Now come on," she said softly as she stepped back slightly. "Let's forget all about this and get going, alright? We've got stuff to buy, and the clock's ticking."

"Right," Harry agreed, resolving to drop the entire situation and forget it had ever happened. The last thing he wanted was for her to think he was some pathetic teenager that constantly succumbed to angst.

Fifteen minutes later found Harry and Hermione in the bright light of the early afternoon Las Vegas sun, meandering about the Strip and making their way toward the Fashion Show Mall once again. Despite the fact that they had no idea where a magical shopping area would be, Harry had to admit that Hermione was right; the odds of it being on this side of the MGM were greater than it being on the other side, simply due to the sheer amount of buildings to the north of their hotel. But that still didn't give him any more confidence that they would find it. However, he didn't really care much about that fact, and was instead simply enjoying the time he had to spend with Hermione away from the others, as it gave him a chance to evaluate where he stood with her.

This time, as opposed to their previous shopping trip, the pair stayed on the opposite side of the Strip. Harry had suggested this tactic in an attempt to avoid the peddlers that they had encountered before.

"It's just not appropriate," he explained as they crossed the street directly across from the MGM, crossing over to New York, New York.

"I thought you said that you, along with all other teenage boys, had smut for brains?" Hermione asked mirthfully.

"Well we do. But that doesn't mean I need to subject myself to it at every turn."

"That's very mature, Harry, and very admirable. Are you sure you don't want to save that line for a time when my dad is here?"

"Why?" Harry asked with a shrug. "Why should I save it for then? It's not like my personality's gonna change and I need to save a phrase just to prove something. I'd rather be judged based on how I act all of the time rather than what I say some of the time."

"That has to be one of the most mature… and wisest things you've ever said, Harry," Hermione observed.

"Hey!" he exclaimed. "Are you trying to say that I'm immature and act stupid most of the time?"

"Well…" she began jokingly. "_I _wasn't the one who said that. Of course, a label can be more accurate if you're the one to place it on yourself."

"Yeah, sure, turn it back on me, will ya? That's really mature on your side, too."

Hermione giggled lightly as the pair stopped at the crosswalk between The Bellagio and Caesar's Palace, and waited for the signal to change.

"I like this," Hermione observed as they waited.

"Hmm?"

"This. Us. Together," she explained slowly, gesturing between the two of them.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, feigning confusion. He had a rough idea of what she was referring to, but wanted her to spell it out for herself. As much as he enjoyed her company, it wouldn't do to appear clingy, especially for a platonic relationship. He still was not sure what she wanted, and for that matter, wasn't completely sure where he stood either, even if his mindset had begun to change of late.

"Spending time like this. We don't do it enough, except for Hogsmeade weekends, of course. It's just that… it's different. But fun, if that makes sense. Getting out of our element is always different, but we're still together, which somehow makes it better, if I'm making any sense at all."

"No… you are," he said uncertainly, not really making sense of what she was saying.

"You don't have to patronize me, Harry," she said with a smile as they began to cross the street. "I know when I'm rambling. I'll just leave it at this: I like spending time with you, and lately it's seemed even more… special."

"You mean with us being on holiday and all?"

Hermione smiled sadly. "Yeah, Harry," she said quietly. "That's it."

_That was the wrong answer_, Harry thought. _I'm sure of it. She wasn't expecting me to say that, so… she meant something else? Why else would it all of a sudden be more special to spend time with me? It's not like anything's changed between us… has it?_ As much as Harry had that slight inkling that something may be amiss, he had neither the evidence to prove it, nor the fortitude to ask Hermione outright, a fact that lead to his current predicament.

"Wait a second," Hermione said quietly as they passed The Mirage, next to Treasure Island. Harry followed her line of sight to the Fashion Show Mall that they had visited two days prior, which rested just beyond Treasure Island. "I didn't see that before," she added.

"See what?" Harry asked, straining to make out what she was looking at. "Remember, my eyes aren't the greatest."

"Which just confirms my belief that you need new glasses," she muttered. "That sign," she said louder, pointing.

"'Fashion Show Mall,'" Harry read aloud, following the line from her finger. "So? We've been there before and we saw the sign last time."

"But we didn't see that other sign before," she pointed out as they continued to approach.

Harry squinted and looked at the sign closer, before finally seeing what she was on about. Sure enough, underneath the name 'Fashion Show Mall' was a smaller, glittering sign which read 'and Magical Mezzanine.'

"'Magical Mezzanine?' What in Merlin's name does that mean?" Harry asked. "And more to the point, why didn't we see it before?"

"I dunno," she shrugged in response. "Maybe we didn't look hard enough. But that's beside the point, even though it is a mite convenient. It says it's upstairs in the food court, and we didn't go up there, so that helps our case a bit. Shall we?"

Harry shrugged. "Might as well, since that's why we're here. But I dunno where the place is. We didn't see it a couple of days ago."

"Mezzanine, Harry," Hermione pointed out.

"I know. But I dunno what that means."

"Oh. I never thought about that," she admitted quietly. "A mezzanine is kinda a floor between floors."

"That makes sense," he muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, come off it, Harry," she chided, hearing his complaint. "A mezzanine usually isn't included in the 'official' floor plan as an actual floor, so it's kinda hidden in the first place."

In truth, Harry had tuned out her explanation as he reached the mall door first. He pulled it open and held it for her. "Ladies first," he said politely, gesturing for her to enter first.

"Why thank you, kind sir," she giggled as she moved to enter. Harry tentatively put his hand on the small of her back to help her through, and followed close behind her. When they were inside, Hermione glanced back at Harry and gave him a shy smile in gratitude. "Come on," she said quietly, nodding toward the sign that indicated that the escalator below it led to the food court.

A few moments later, they reached the top of the escalator, having ridden in silence, and found themselves in the bustling food court. It seemed, as they looked around the largely circular room, that every one of the small food kiosks was serving customers, which made sense considering the early afternoon hour.

The escalators, located in the center of the circular, glass-enclosed food court, had taken them to what appeared to be the top floor of the mall. One side of the massive room was taken up by the various food kiosks and miniature restaurants, while their entire right side was occupied by a large glass wall, not unlike the one they had found in the magical reception area at Heathrow. Even from their vantage point in the center of the room, they could see that the large window overlooked portions of the Strip. The rest of the room was filled with various tables and a few half-walls topped with artificial foliage.

"Well now what?" Harry asked as they looked around, moving away from the escalators in order to allow for others to pass by. "I hardly think all these people are wandering around and missing the entrance to some mystical, magical shopping area."

"It could be something like back at Heathrow," Hermione suggested. "Or the barrier at King's Cross. Granted, we can't see through them either, but there could be some kind of hidden portal somewhere that we aren't seeing."

"But what about the sign outside?"

"Could be hidden too, or it could only be seen by people who are magical. It wouldn't be the least possible thing in the world. Worst case scenario is that they're using some kind of muggle-repelling charm to make them not see it. That would make the most sense."

"Yeah," Harry replied, just as he spotted another sign for the Mezzanine. "There," he added, pointing.

Instantly, Hermione pushed his arm down. "Don't point," she hissed. "Somebody's bound to look where you're pointing and see nothing. Then what would they think?"

Harry shrugged noncommittally.

Hermione sighed. "Sorry, I don't mean to be short with you, I just wanted you to be careful, that's all. Right now, considering where we are, we can't afford not to be. We have to keep our eyes open and keep watch around us, especially considering what we're planning. It wouldn't do to attract unwanted attention."

"I know that," Harry replied. "And I didn't think you were being short. I've known you long enough to know that pretty much everything you do has some kind of reasoning behind it, so I wasn't too worried. But," he added, nodding ahead, "looks like there's where we want to go."

Sure enough, Hermione noticed as she followed his gaze, the restroom hall that rested between two restaurants, was topped by yet another sign for the 'Magical Mezzanine.'

"Of course," Hermione muttered sarcastically, "why _not_ hide the entrance to another shopping area next to the loo? It only makes sense."

"Well, we would've never thought to look there," Harry reasoned, "so maybe it is a good hiding spot?"

Hermione, however, did not respond, and instead led the way through the throng that occupied the food court to the wide restroom hallway. They found that, while both restroom doors were on the left side of the hall, the right side was largely empty with the exception of the pair of water fountains. That is, except for the pair of green signs in the shape of arrows that pointed toward each other. Separated by about two meters, the signs each contained yellow text, with the one on the left stating 'Magical,' and the other 'Mezzanine.'

"Suppose it's like the barrier at Platform 9 ¾?" Harry asked as he stared at the wall between the signs.

"Only one way to find out," Hermione replied as she walked into the wall and disappeared.

Harry followed closely behind and soon found himself in a short, three meter long hallway that ended in a staircase that led up. Hermione silently led the way up the stairs, which curved to the right, seemingly bringing the pair back to the beginning of the restroom hall one floor below.

After a moment of climbing, the staircase flattened out and widened gradually, opening into an expansive, naturally lit rotunda, capped by a high glass dome. The floor, as well, appeared to be made of glass, although no supports could be seen. Despite this, the teens were afforded an excellent view of the food court below, and all of its occupants. Like the food court, one side of this new area was taken up by a large, panoramic window, which seemed to stretch upward and join up with the glass dome.

"This isn't a mezzanine," Hermione observed as she looked around. "A mezzanine is almost like a balcony or middle floor between two real ones. This is just another floor, albeit a neat one, but another floor none the less."

"They could've just chosen the name because it sounded cool," Harry suggested. "Wouldn't be the first time anyone's done that."

"True," she admitted as she took further stock of their surroundings.

The middle of the room was occupied by a large, traditional fountain, which flowed into an equally large reflecting pool at its base. Surrounding the circular fountain was a series of disconnected, rounded raised flower beds, complete with benches on either side. The entire area gave the impression of the center of a public park. The shoppers, too, were nothing like Harry was used to seeing in Diagon Alley. Instead, they were dressed as muggles and milled around naturally as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

"Doesn't look like anything you'd find in the middle of the dessert," Harry said. "But then again, it's magic, so they can do whatever they want."

Hermione, however, was more concerned with the various shops that dotted the walls, as well as the handful of kiosks that radiated out from the center of the room. Harry watched as her eyes wandered, eventually stopping in front of a magical book shop. He continued to watch as she glanced between the book shop and the apothecary next door, her eyes darting back and forth as she appeared to be weighing her choices.

"You know," he began, "we can go to both. It's not like we only have a few minutes here."

"I know," she replied. "But I was just deciding which one I wanted to go into first."

"Well, how about this. How about we get our business at the apothecary done first? Then, if you're good, we can visit the book shop. If you behave yourself, I'll even buy you a book. How does that sound?"

"Prat," she chuckled as she smacked his arm lightly. "But okay," she added eagerly, earning a laugh from Harry. Grabbing his hand, she dragged him toward the apothecary, pulling the two ingredient lists out with her free hand.

As they approached, Harry caught sight of the name of the shop, emblazoned on a large sign over the entrance. 'Sin City Potions' looked somewhat small on the outside, but Harry could see that it stretched deep into the wall and branched out on either side of the entrance.

"So what do we need?" Harry asked as they entered the shop.

"Well," Hermione began in a matter-of-fact tone as she looked at the paper in her hand, "looks like we need a rotten egg…naturally, a frog brain, three tubeworms, some Nux Myristica, two powdered bat wings, and goosegrass. Now, that's just for the gassy perfume, mind you. Sirius and Remus don't need as much, but they still need a few things, like exploding fluid, some octopus powder, and some wormwood essence. I'm not sure what they need with all that, except for the exploding fluid. Merlin knows they must be barmy to try anything with that."

"Why's that?"

"It explodes when agitated," she informed him. "Granted, I can see why they're using it, but I shudder to think of how much experience they must have with it."

"Just don't think about it and everything will be better," Harry advised. "I try not to think of all the horrible things Sirius has done, and I get along with him just fine."

Just over fifteen minutes later, the pair exited the apothecary, having purchased all of the items on their two lists, as well as an assortment of other goods. Hermione had argued that they would need a brewing kit and a collection of various basic ingredients, so Harry had naturally complied and purchased those items as well. After they had finished their shopping, Hermione shrunk their purchases and gave them to Harry, who stored them in his deeper shorts pockets.

As they exited the apothecary, Harry eyed the book store next door. "Alright," he began, "I think you behaved yourself in there. So… I guess we can visit the book store."

"You know, reading isn't the most important thing in the world for me," Hermione said. "There are more important things in the world besides books."

"So are you saying you don't want to go in?" he asked.

"Now I never said that," she quickly backtracked.

"Well, then?" Harry asked expectantly, tapping his foot exaggeratedly for emphasis. "I told you I'd buy you a book, and I can't really see you turning that down, so…"

"You know me too well," she grumbled as she eyed the sign that hovered over the shop, indicating that the shop was named 'Double-Down Booksellers.'

"I know, creepy; isn't it?"

"Since when did I say it was creepy?" she chirped as she took off into the book store.

Harry was left shaking his head as he watched her scamper away. _Yep,_ he thought, _she has to fancy me. There's really no other explanation for everything. I think. Maybe. I hope. Wait, what? 'Hope?' Am I really that desperate? Granted, it would be nice… but I'm not desperate._

"Harry," Hermione called from just inside the shop, "if you're done arguing with yourself, there're books to be bought."

Startled out of his musings, Harry entered the shop and looked around absently in an attempt to kill time. The store was set up with nearly a dozen long shelves stretching away from the door and running parallel to each other. As opposed to the antiquated and cluttered look of Flourish and Blott's in Diagon Alley, this shop seemed to be much more modern, in keeping with the general atmosphere of the entire shopping area. Nondescript white shelves were full of clean, dust-free books that appeared to be neatly organized instead of the haphazard organizational method found in the British magical book shop. From what Harry could tell, the store contained a mix of various magical and muggle books, including both fiction and non-fiction. However, despite the fact that he had been the one to suggest they visit the shop, Harry had little desire to actually be there. As a result, he found himself not really paying attention to any of the products on display, and instead found his mind wandering back to its previous train of thought.

_So, it's not creepy that I know her 'too well,'_ he reminded himself. _That could be a good thing. I'd think anyone else would think it would be creepy, so she must want me to know her well. You either want someone to know you well or you don't. And if you don't, then it would be creepy if someone did know you too well. Logically then, she wants me to know her well._ Harry didn't entertain the possibility that his logic was full of holes, as he was far more concerned with the conclusion he had reached. _So why would she want me to know her well? Granted, I am her friend, so it would make sense for her to want me to get to know her. But I'm sure she fancies me now. She has to. I mean, granted, I wasn't too sure earlier today, but it kinda makes sense. I can't be completely sure, but it only makes sense. The only question is: what to do about it? I could try being a bit bolder…_

"Harry?" Hermione interrupted his thoughts. "You're thinking again. It's kinda cute, but it looks like you're thinking really hard, so you might wanna stop."

_I'm cute?_

"Um…hey," he greeted nervously.

"'Hey' to you too. Now, are you done thinking about whatever it is and ready to go?"

"Go?" he asked, confused. "But we just got here."

"Yeah, about ten minutes ago…"

_Ten minutes? Nah, it couldn't have been that long._

"And I know how much you hate book stores, so we can leave whenever you're ready."

Harry looked down at the pile of books she was carrying. "I thought you were just gonna buy one book?" he asked.

"Well…I can't really decide which one I want," she replied.

Harry cocked his head and read the spines of the titles she had chosen. It appeared as though she was deciding between a book on aromatic potions, one describing the history of magical America, and one about ancient rituals. However, buried between the potions and history book, and partially blocked by her hand, Harry could make out another book.

"What's that?" he asked, leaning forward a bit for a better look.

"Nothing!" Hermione replied quickly, turning away slightly. This piqued Harry's curiosity, and he resolved to find out what the book was, at almost any cost.

"All that you just told me is that it isn't 'nothing,'" he said cheekily. "Now, what're you trying to hide?"

"Nothing! Honest!" she exclaimed emphatically. However, her deep blush told Harry otherwise.

"Hermione, you're a lousy liar. Now lemme see what it is. Come on!" he urged, as she turned her back to him fully, wrapping her arms tighter around her books.

"Now I know it's something good," Harry joked. "You're never like this." He wrapped her arms around Hermione as he tried to wrestle the books from her grasp. She squirmed in his embrace as he occupied his hands with prying the books from her hands.

"Harry!" she squealed, "just let it be!"

"What're you trying to hide?" he asked with a chuckle. "Come on, lemme see!"

"No!" she giggled.

Finally, Harry wrenched the books from her grip, causing them to fall to the ground. However, Harry's hands kept hold of the mysterious fourth book, which he raised slightly as he kept his arms around Hermione's waist.

"Really?" he asked curiously as he pressed himself against Hermione's back and peered over her shoulder at the book in his hands. Instantly, he understood why Hermione had been trying to hide this particular book. Staring back at him, as he rested his head on Hermione's shoulder, was a cheap, paperback, Harlequin romance novel. "You read these?" he asked as he took in the cover, which depicted a scantily clad woman in the embrace of a shirtless man with a long flowing, blonde mane. "Looks pretty good," he joked.

"Oh, come off it, Harry. So I read cheap romance novels. So what?"

"I just never thought you'd read something like this. What's so interesting about them? They just don't seem like something you'd like."

Hermione, resigned to the fact that Harry had seen the book, relaxed in his embrace. "Is it so wrong for a girl to read something like this?" she asked pointedly.

"I didn't say that it was," Harry replied defensively. "It just looks like you must have some uncanny desire to be swept off your feet; to be saved by some kind of knight in shining armor."

"I think you're getting me confused with Ginny," Hermione muttered.

"Maybe, but I could still see you enjoying the prospect of it, even if you aren't chasing some impossible fantasy like she is. Now," he continued, nervousness seeping into his voice, "I would've thought with all the times we've saved each other's lives, I would've swept you off your feet by now."

"I never said that wasn't the case…" she whispered, blushing. Despite her whisper, the fact that Harry's ear was pressed up against her head allowed him to hear every word.

"Oh, so I have?" he flirted, but he received no immediate response.

"Excuse me?" a voice interrupted.

Harry and Hermione leapt apart, both blushing furiously as Harry dropped the book in the process. Harry spun around to find a young girl who appeared to be around twenty years old and who worked for the shop. She was glaring at Harry and Hermione while tapping her foot irritably.

"If you two are done, I'm sure there are customers here who'd like to buy those books. That is, if you two lovebirds aren't gonna buy them." With that, she turned and left the pair alone, returning to her post at the cashier's stand near the door.

Hermione scrambled to pick up the three educational books. "So we're ready to leave, right?" she asked, not making eye contact.

Harry bent over and picked up the Harlequin book and placed it on the stack that Hermione was carrying. "Yeah, but we have to pay for these first," he replied.

Hermione looked at him uncertainly, but nodded before rushing past him to the cashier. Harry paid for the books and waited as the still-unpleasant cashier bagged their purchases. Once she was done, she held the bag out for either of the teens to take.

"I'll take it," Harry volunteered, as he grabbed the bag. Taking it, he led the way out of the shop and back into the Mezzanine and toward a bench near the fountain in the center of the shopping center.

Neither Harry nor Hermione spoke for several moments as they sat there in complete silence, occasionally watching as other magical shoppers patronized the various shops and kiosks. However, for the most part, Harry's attention was focused on the floor, as he watched the occupants of the food court below. While his gaze was focused downward, his thoughts were elsewhere, as he tried to conceive of some way to break the ice with Hermione.

"So what do you want to do now?" he asked timidly, raising his head to make eye contact with his best female friend.

"I dunno," she replied quietly.

Harry sighed. He knew he had to get her mind off of the embarrassment of what had just happened in the book store, but at the same time he realized he had to address it somehow.

"Hey," he began softly, trying to get her attention. "I know that was kinda embarrassing in there. But she was a complete arse about it, so we can't really think too much about it. We were just… playing around. How she responded to it is her own business, so I'm not gonna let it ruin anything for me. I had fun in there, and that's what I'm gonna take away from it."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Hermione admitted. "I guess I'm just putting too much stock into what someone else thinks. But it's none of their business, right? How we act around each other and how we enjoy each other's company is our own business and nobody else's, right?" Harry nodded. "Well," she added quietly, "there's always Daddy, who thinks it's his business too."

Harry pretended not to hear her last comment, even though his mind was racing with all manner of terrible scenarios involving Richard Granger and himself.

"Anyway," Hermione continued as she glanced at the large clock on the wall over the staircase they had climbed earlier, "it's only a quarter to three. So we've still got plenty of time. Anything else you want to do here?"

Harry glanced around to see if any of the remaining shops piqued his interest. "Well, I don't really think we need any wizarding clothes," he said, as he noticed that most of the other shops fell into that category. "And I didn't bring Hedwig, so I don't need anything for an owl… wait… what?" He stopped as his eyes caught on a curious sight. "They have Gringotts here too?"

Hermione perked up at his question and followed his line of sight to find that, sure enough, there was a small branch of Gringotts located in one of the alcoves along the wall. Due to the size restrictions and location, it appeared to be quite similar to the branch they had visited in Heathrow two days before.

"I've gotta check this out," Harry announced, rising from his seat.

"What? Why?" Hermione asked. "There's nothing to check out. I mean, it's a bank. We know that already."

Harry shrugged as Hermione jumped up to catch up to him. "Something to do," he muttered as he strode toward the bank. "I always thought Gringotts was only in Britain, so I just wanna ask how big they really are, that's all."

A moment later, Harry found himself face-to-face with a goblin teller, having waited in line for a brief moment before being called forward.

"What can I do for you?" the goblin snarled pleasantly, a contradiction that Harry found amusing.

"I just had a question," Harry said. "I've always visited the Gringotts branch in Diagon Alley, so I just find it kinda odd that there's one here in the States too. I was just wondering how big Gringotts really is."

Instead of answering, the teller reached behind his counter and pulled out a thick pamphlet, which he handed to Harry. "This lists all of the Gringotts branches around the world," he explained. "Gringotts is not merely confined to the British Isles, and has branches scattered around the world. However, our flagship branch is the one in Diagon Alley, with which you are already familiar."

Taking the brochure, Harry nodded to the goblin in thanks, before turning and leaving the bank. He met up with Hermione just outside the door, where she had been leaning against the wall, waiting for him.

"So what'd you find out?" she asked.

Harry handed her the pamphlet as they began to walk back toward the staircase that led down to the food court. "The teller in there said that they have branches all around the world," he explained as Hermione flipped through the pages of the brochure. Harry glanced at it out of the corner of his eye to find that each page seemed to be filled with long lists made up of tiny print, detailing the locations of each branch.

"You can say that again," Hermione muttered as she read. "They've got a branch in Indonesia! There's a Cape Horn branch! And there's even one in Resolute!"

"Resolute?" Harry asked as they began to descend the stairs. "Never heard of it."

"It's in Canada," Hermione informed him. "And it's pretty much one of the northernmost settlements in the world. If you want to go to the North Pole, you can start there."

"Then what's the point of having a Gringotts branch there? I'm sure there can't be more than a handful of people there at any given time, which then begs the question: how many of them are magical?"

"That I don't know, Harry," Hermione admitted. "And before you say anything: yes, there are things I don't know. Or at least don't care to know. The magical population of Resolute, Canada, is one of those things."

"Care to list any others?" he prodded.

"Not particularly," she retorted. "But at least this tells us one thing," she added.

"And what's that?"

"Now we know how Malfoy is funding…" she looked around as they reached the food court, before whispering, "Voldemort's operations. He's using the Gringotts system to deposit money here and having it withdrawn halfway around the world."

"Well, that certainly saves some postage," Harry commented with a shrug.

"And it also saves Malfoy from being watched," Hermione added. "From what I've gathered, the goblins couldn't care less about what their patrons do. They're very much like a Swiss bank…or at least some Swiss bankers, whose motto is 'See no evil, hear no evil.'"

"Makes sense," Harry reasoned. "Malfoy must visit Gringotts under an invisibility cloak or something. That way the goblins 'see no evil.'"

"That was terrible, Harry," Hermione groaned. "Besides, that's not what that saying means."

"I know that. I was just trying to lighten the mood," he explained, not touching on the real reason why he wanted to do so. "But I was being serious when I said that it makes sense. And we can even use the system to our advantage, too, if we put the… item in one of our vaults from here. That way we don't have to risk transporting it back home."

"Now there's an idea. Of course, we still have to get out of Vegas in one piece, but at least we wouldn't have to worry about carrying that thing with us. That is, of course, if we manage to succeed."

"Now, Hermione, don't be so negative," Harry chided as they reached the bottom of the escalator and made their way toward the mall's exit. "We've got a plan, a good team, and time is on our side. What could possibly go wrong?"

* * *

><p><em>July 26, 2011<em>

_3:37 PM_

Harry and Hermione entered the casino of the MGM Grand and made their way toward the door that led to The Signature. Weaving through the throng that inhabited the casino, Harry and Hermione finally reached the last of the slot machines, as the casino floor merged with the MGM's elongated shopping area. However, just as they left the casino floor, Harry felt a tap on his shoulder.

Whirling around, Harry came face to face with a middle-aged man who was nearly a foot taller than Harry, and dressed in a neat black suit with a pale blue tie.

"Mr. Potter?" the man asked, not in confusion, but as a means of introduction. "I need to have a word with you, if you don't mind."

"Well, it seems you have me at a disadvantage since you know my name and I don't know yours," Harry replied snidely. "And that worries me, frankly."

"Mr. Potter, I don't bear you any ill will," the man reassured him. "I simply need to speak with you for a few minutes. Alone, of course."

"Of course. And can I ask what this is about?"

"No," the man replied sharply. "This is something that needs to be discussed between you and I only… nobody else."

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but Harry raised a single hand to silence her. "A few minutes?" Harry asked for confirmation, earning a nod from the newcomer.

"Harry…" Hermione began warningly.

"Head back up to the room," he told her significantly.

"But-"

"I'll be fine," Harry reassured her. "Besides, there're plenty of people around here anyway, so I doubt anything'll happen."

Hermione looked at him with concern, to which Harry replied with a small smile, as he attempted to reassure her. She glanced at the stranger briefly before nodding slightly and turning to leave.

"Be careful, Harry," she said quietly as she walked away.

Once she had gone, Harry turned to the other man. "Now, I just sent her away against my better judgment, so this better be good."

"I'll try and make it worth your while," the man said sarcastically. "But let's sit down over there and talk for a minute." He nodded toward the nearby bench that rested against the wall just off of the casino floor.

"I still don't know your name," Harry reminded him as they sat down.

"And I apologize for that, Harry. May I call you Harry?"

"Only if I can call you…"

"Roger," the man told him. "My name's Roger Daltrey."

"Oh! Like the singer-"

"No," Roger replied irritably. "Not like the singer. And no, I'm not related to him, nor have I ever met him. My parents thought it would be funny, and I've had to live with their sick joke for decades now."

"As entertaining as that is," Harry began, "why'd you need to talk to me?"

"Right down to business. I like that, Harry. Anyway, lemme get down to it. I hate to break this to you, Harry, but even though you tried to fly under the radar, so to speak, you're still somewhat of a celebrity here too. In other words, we spotted you as soon as you entered the country. See, I work at the Las Vegas office of the Magical Gaming Commission, or MGC. So anytime someone magical comes into town, we pretty much know it, especially if they take an interest in gaming."

"That's all fine and good, but what does that have to do with anything?"

"Have you ever stopped to think about how it must look for a famous British wizard to visit the resort owned by another British wizard, especially one whose behavior has consistently bordered on shady?"

Harry didn't reply as he took in the man's overall appearance. His brown hair appeared to be slowly turning gray, as short, small streaks dotted his otherwise solid-colored locks.

"Let me put it this way," Daltrey continued, "it looks pretty damn suspicious. Lucius Malfoy has owned a property here in Vegas for a few years now, and there's always been something… off about it, at least for me. Granted, I've never been able to get anyone else to pay attention to him, but I've always had that feeling about him. Every year when it comes time for the annual MGC inspection of The Merlin, it conveniently disappears from our docket."

"He's buying them off," Harry muttered.

"Now, Potter, I'm not gonna go so far as to say that. But it is mighty suspicious. The man is like a snake that manages to slip through our grasp time and time again. It's almost as though he has something to hide, but I've never been able to find out for sure what it is or if he's even hiding anything. But I'm sure that if I could find something, and prove it, I'd be a shoe-in for the Deputy Director position. But my position isn't helped by the fact that he's a foreigner. Magical laws are different than Muggle laws, and Malfoy and his property are afforded certain protections from the magical government as a result of that foreign status."

"Why're you telling me this?" Harry asked. "It's all well and good that you think Malfoy's crooked, but what does that have to do with me?"

"Harry, we've been watching you ever since you stepped foot in Las Vegas a few days ago. Frankly, your behavior, and that of your companions, has been nothing less than suspicious. Now, I'm not one to throw around accusations and draw baseless conclusions, but someone might think that you were up to something. As a senior investigator with the MGC, I'd be remiss in my duties if I didn't do something about it."

"There's nothing to do anything about," Harry replied nervously.

"Harry, I'm not stupid," Daltrey said. "I know what you're planning on doing, and how you're planning on doing it. Of course, I don't have hard evidence of that fact. However, I can be certain that if there is some kind of job pulled at The Merlin, the MGC is required to perform an investigation. There's no way around it, since it automatically involves the MBI as well."

"MBI?"

"Magical Bureau of Investigation. Sorry about that. I'm just so used to throwing around acronyms that sometimes I forget that not everyone knows what they all mean. But the point still stands: we'd finally be able to do a thorough investigation of The Merlin and find out if Malfoy is complying with our regulations. I, for one, don't believe he is."

"So you know what we're supposedly planning?" Harry asked, purposefully remaining vague. "So then you're here to try and stop us?"

"Harry, I can't stop something if I'm not absolutely sure about it," Daltrey replied cryptically. "Although, of course, if I heard anything or saw anything incriminating, especially if it took place within The Merlin itself, then I would be forced to take action. But I really hate speculation. And since I know you'd never try and pull anything, I can say that you really have nothing to worry about. That is, still, as long as I don't see or hear anything of course."

"So all you came here to do was to tell me that you're watching us and to not slip up? We already knew not to mess up, so what's the point of this conversation?"

"You know, Harry, when I came here to talk to you, it was really just to serve as a warning. I had to keep reminding myself that there are things I shouldn't talk to you about. For example, I shouldn't tell you about the fact that security at The Merlin is a combination of magic and Muggle technology, or the fact that the main vault can only be opened remotely from the security office. Oh, and I definitely shouldn't tell you about the magic detectors on the casino floor."

"We already know about those."

"Good, then I won't have to tell you about them, or the fact that there are similar detectors behind the scenes that only allow certain registered wands to go unnoticed. May I ask, do you know wandless magic?" Harry shook his head. "Then it may be prudent for you to only use magic in an emergency. Of course, that is only in a hypothetical situation."

"Naturally."

"But one thing I can tell you is about some of the other resorts in Las Vegas. Many other properties use retinal scanners to access their main vault, usually in a special elevator. In addition, many have secondary vaults within their main vault for high-security items, such as the Chairman's personal belongings. As a result, the Chairman carries the only key to this vault at all times. Of course, these measures are used in some other resorts, but wouldn't it be convenient if they happened to be employed at The Merlin as well?"

"Absolutely," Harry replied, catching on. "But since we can't be _completely_ sure, then it's better not to try anything, right?"

"Exactly my point, Harry. It would be foolhardy of you and your associates to try anything without knowing what kind of security measures you are up against. I know you are wiser than that, am I right?"

As Daltrey finished speaking, Harry saw Sirius, Remus, and Richard approaching quickly from the direction of The Signature, worried looks plastered on their faces. Harry glanced over at his companion, who gave him a slight smile.

"Well, I think I'd better be on my way," Roger announced, rising from the bench. "But remember, I'll be around. I just hope not to hear from you, Harry." With that, he walked away, just as the other three reached Harry.

"Everything alright, Harry?" Sirius asked, his voice full of concern. "Hermione said something was wrong and that you had been grabbed by someone she didn't recognize."

"Everything's fine," Harry replied as he watched Daltrey walk through the casino and disappear behind some slot machines. "Everything's completely fine."

End of Chapter 11

A/N: So here we are again. It was a bit of a wait between chapters 10 and 11, but now I'm back. I used the time in between chapters to work on the story some more, as well as enlist the help of an editor in pathseekerme. A special shout out goes out to her for helping correct the errors in this chapter as well as providing general help!

Also, congratulations to the following members for correctly guessing the title of this chapter: HHRbelong2gether, naughtyvampire2003, Kingswriter, acam, and luvsanime02. Thank you all for continuing to play this little game.

I just want to talk briefly about where the story is going from here. For the most part, this story is split into four acts, with act one lasting up until the flight to Vegas, and act two going through chapter 12. Act three will consist of chapter 13 through 16, and the remainder will make up act four. While I don't want to go into what the plot of each act will revolve around, I do want to mention one thing about act three. The time frame for act three is very, very short. As a result, the chapters are much shorter, more in line with some of the earlier chapters. In fact, without spoiling anything, chapter 15 covers events that take only four minutes, so it will be a very short chapter. The upside of all of this is that shorter chapters take less time to write, so I should be able to update with increased frequency. That is, of course, after my writing is reviewed by pathseekerme, who has been invaluable so far.

**Chapter Title Hint:** The title of chapter 12 changed twice during the writing process, starting with a title on the "Magic" album, continuing to a song from "Queen II," and finally ending with a song from "Queen" itself. The title of the song focuses on the relationship between two individuals. This ties in nicely with the theme of chapter 12, which ends act two and is a somewhat low-key chapter that is mainly dedicated to the Harry/Hermione relationship. I hope I've provided enough information to be able to guess the title.

Thank you all again for reading and I hope you continue to enjoy my writing. Please leave me a review if you enjoy it, and I'll see you again soon with chapter 12.


	12. Son and Daughter

Chapter 12

**Son and Daughter**

_July 26, 2011_

_3:46 PM_

As the door closed behind Sirius, Remus, and Richard, Hermione flung herself heavily onto the sofa and pulled her knees to her chest. Ellen, having been in the room the entire time as Hermione described the situation, moved to sit next to her daughter as they waited.

"I'm sure it's nothing," Ellen said uncertainly, in an attempt to reassure Hermione.

"Why does he always have to go and be the big, brave man?" Hermione complained. "He's gonna get himself killed one of these days!"

"Hermione, I hardly think that talking to a stranger in a public place will get him killed."

"But we don't know who that person was! For all we know he could be one of Malfoy's cronies or something!"

"I think you're overreacting just a bit, dear. It almost sounds like you're letting the fact that you fancy the boy cloud your judgment some. Have you told him yet?"

"Of course not!" Hermione exclaimed, moving to tuck her legs under herself. "How am I supposed to do that? Walk up to him and say, 'Hey, Harry, I just wanted to let you know I fancy you and want to snog you half to death?' That'd go over really well."

"Snog him half to death?" Ellen repeated. "I didn't think it was that bad. So you really do fancy him, don't you? I just thought it was something that was more friendly than anything else. But no… now you've gone and put that image in my mind."

"Sorry, mum. Maybe I did exaggerate it a bit there. But-"

"I don't think it was an exaggeration at all. You wouldn't have said it if you didn't mean it. But anyway, if you aren't gonna tell him, what're you waiting for? Him to finally get his head out of his arse and figure it out for himself? I hate to break it to you, Hermione, but you'll be waiting for a long time if that's what you're expecting."

"I've been dropping hints…" Hermione offered in her own defense.

"And I'm sure they've been subtle and difficult to pick up on, too," Ellen retorted. "But even beyond that, there is something else to consider, too."

"Which is?"

"That even if he figures out how he feels… and even how you feel, he still might not want to try anything. I get the impression from Harry that he over-thinks things or wouldn't be willing to risk your friendship… or your life, for some kind of whirlwind romance."

"Well, there is that," Hermione admitted. "But he's always been kinda impulsive, so I doubt that would be the case. He just either doesn't fancy me back, or doesn't know yet."

"I still think he fancies you, Hermione. Look at the signs. He flirts with you. He touches you… more often than a friend would. He gets flustered around you, and was even embarrassed at the thought of sharing a room with you. There aren't many things that could explain away all of those incidents."

Hermione's mind instantly traveled back to the incident in the book shop earlier that day. Everything her mother had just said, the flirting, the touching, even Harry getting flustered, had happened just during that one episode.

"What're you thinking about?" Ellen asked.

"Well…" Hermione began, "we had an… incident earlier today."

"This sounds good. Continue."

Hermione chuckled at her mother's mockingly business-like demeanor. "I was looking at a book at a magical book store, but I kinda hid it from Harry. In hindsight, that was probably a really bad idea, since it got him curious."

"It wasn't one of those horrid romance books you read, was it? I can't think of much else you would've hid from him." Hermione, however, did not respond, but instead blushed silently. "It was, wasn't it? Oh, Hermione, that must've opened up a can of worms right there. What happened?"

"Well, he wanted to find out what book it was, even after I turned around to hide it from him. So he wrapped his arms around my waist and wrestled it out of my hands from behind me. That's how he found out about it."

"Okay… I fail to see how this is awkward…"

"He stayed in that position as he looked at the book with his head on my shoulder. Then he asked me if I had some fantasy about wanting to be swept off of my feet, or rescued, or some other bollocks like that. I didn't give him a straight answer, which made him ask me if, after all the times we'd gotten into danger together, he'd swept me off my feet."

"Ah," Ellen said significantly. "And what'd you tell him?"

"I told him that…" she lowered her voice, "…that I never said that wasn't the case."

"What was that, Hermione?" Ellen asked with a smile. She had heard her daughter perfectly, but wanted her to enunciate her admission more clearly.

"I told him that I never said that wasn't the case!" Hermione exclaimed.

"So you told him how you felt."

"Not really. I just told him that I never said he hadn't swept me off my feet."

"You told him how you felt," Ellen repeated. "There's a fine distinction there, but that's pretty much what you told him. By saying that you never said he hadn't swept you off your feet, you told him that he had, plain and simple. So anyway, what happened next?"

"He stayed there for a moment, holding me, but we were interrupted by one of the employees, who very rudely told us to either buy something or leave… basically."

"Uh huh," Ellen mumbled. "I can certainly see how that might be… inconvenient."

"But then later, Harry brushed it off as us just having fun! Granted, it was a bit awkward, but I thought he was, at the very least, flirting with me!"

"He might've been. You have to remember, Hermione, that Harry can be socially awkward. I've certainly realized that in the short time I've spent with him. Maybe he was overcompensating by saying that you were just playing, or maybe he thought that that was what you thought was going on. Did you make it clear to him that you might've enjoyed it?"

"Not really… but I thought it was obvious!"

"Hermione, you're a smart girl, but sometimes you can do stupid things. I know you don't have much experience in these kinds of matters-"

"Viktor thought I liked him!" Hermione protested.

"Yes, he did. But did you really like him as more than a friend?" Hermione shook her head. "Exactly. I think this whole fancying business has gone to your head and you lock up whenever something happens between you two. If you really want Harry to open up to try to deepen your relationship, you need to make it a priority. You can't act like you always have and hope he somehow falls into your lap. It doesn't work that way. A relationship takes work, both before and during."

"I just didn't want to seem desperate…"

"Well, I can tell you that it worked. You just need to be yourself, but flirt with him a bit more. I know that sounds like a bit of a contradiction, but trust me, it's possible. You need to show him you're interested all of the time, not just when the opportunity presents itself."

As Ellen finished speaking, the door to the room opened to reveal Harry, flanked by the three men who had gone after him. Hermione glanced at her mother, who nodded toward Harry slightly, giving Hermione an indication as to what she should do.

Taking the cue from Ellen, Hermione bolted from the sofa and flung herself at Harry, wrapping him in a tight hug.

"Oh, Harry! I was so worried something might've happened to you!" she mumbled into his neck.

Harry, for his part, wrapped his arms around her torso to return the hug. "Hey now," he began, with one arm wrapped around her shoulders, "nothing bad was gonna happen; I could feel it. I just didn't know who that bloke was, that's all. And look: it all turned out just fine. In fact, I had a really good conversation with the guy, and learned quite a bit."

"About what?" Hermione asked, as she pulled back from him, while still maintaining their embrace.

"Well, let's just say our job got a bit easier," Harry replied, as he sat down on the far end of the sofa in the Grangers' room, causing Hermione to promptly sit next to him, with Ellen on the other end.

"Should Minerva be here for this?" Sirius asked, anticipating that Harry would explain what his recent downstairs conversation had entailed.

"Wouldn't hurt," Harry replied as Hermione scooted imperceptibly closer.

Sirius nodded and disappeared through the door to fetch the transfiguration professor. A moment later, he returned with the older woman in tow.

"What's this I hear about Harry being kidnapped?" Minerva asked frantically as she walked through the door. However, she stopped short as she saw Harry sitting safely on the sofa, seemingly protected by Hermione, who had decreased the distance between them once more. Ellen saw this shift out of the corner of her eye and smiled slightly.

"Mr. Black, you have a sick sense of humor!" Minerva shrieked as Sirius darted away from her, fearing her wrath. "Now, I won't believe you the next time you tell me something like that! Haven't you ever heard the story of the boy who cried wolf?"

"No, I haven't," Sirius replied. "I didn't know there was a story about Moony floating around out there."

"Are you quite finished?" Remus asked, rolling his eyes.

"Not quite," Sirius responded.

"Yes, you are," Harry informed him. "Because I'm gonna tell my story."

"Oooh!" Sirius exclaimed. "I love stories!" He immediately threw himself on the floor and propped his head up on his hands as he kicked his feet in the air in anticipation.

"Remus," Harry began, "I blame you for this." He gestured toward Sirius, who looked every bit the part of a teenage girl laying on the floor at a slumber party.

Remus threw up his hands in his own defense. "Don't blame me, Harry. I stopped playing Sirius's babysitter when we left Hogwarts. I told him, on graduation day no less, that he was on his own from then on. Obviously, that wasn't the best decision. Just look at the results."

"Can we hear Harry's story now?" Hermione asked impatiently from her perch next to Harry.

"By all means, Harry," Sirius encouraged. "We're waiting."

And so, Harry regaled them with the story of his encounter with Roger Daltrey of the Magical Gaming Commission, including his questionable motives, as well as the information he had given. After Harry told them about the retinal scanner inside the elevator to the vault, he was cut off.

"That'll be a problem," Richard said.

"Why? What's that?" Harry asked. He looked around the room to see that Sirius, and to a lesser degree Remus, shared his confusion.

"A retinal scanner, for those who don't know, is something that, for lack of a better description, scans a person's eye. Basically, each person's eye has its own unique pattern, almost like a fingerprint. It is thought to be more reliable than a fingerprint scanner, because a person's fingerprint could theoretically wear away after years of work. Anyway, since each person has their own unique retina, the scanner is not something that can be easily fooled, if at all."

"Well, that's just brilliant," Harry complained. "I never thought that would be a problem. Then again, I had never heard of a retinal scanner until you explained it, so I didn't pay it any mind."

"It'll be a problem," Minerva added, "but I'm sure we'll find a way around it. For now, let's just let Harry here finish with his story."

"Sure, why not? Then we can find out what else could possibly go wrong," Harry said sarcastically. "Anyway, he also told me that many resorts have a smaller vault inside the main one, that's usually used for really important stuff. In other words, he told me that whatever the casino chairman deems important goes in there. That's why the chairman has the only key to the vault."

"So we have to find a way to get those keys off of Lucius then," Sirius observed. "Which means we have to get near the slimy bastard in the first place, which is something I was hoping to avoid."

"What about Severus?" Remus asked. "He's already close to Malfoy, so it shouldn't be a stretch for him to find a way to get that key."

"That could work," Hermione opined. "But it could put him in a position that could expose him."

"Eh, he's in that kind of position all the time," Harry replied easily. "Or at least, that's what he's led us to believe. The only thing I've ever heard him report from all of his spying is that little bit about Voldemort hiding something here in Vegas. Aside from that, I haven't heard anything come of his spying."

"Oh, come off it, Harry. It's not very becoming of you to question Professor Snape like that-"

"Even if he is a greasy git," Sirius muttered.

"Even if he is a greasy… hey!" Hermione exclaimed, having unconsciously repeated Sirius's phrase.

"Don't look at me!" Sirius replied in his own defense. "You're the one who said it!"

"But you put the thought in my mind!" she argued. "So, naturally, I blame you!"

"Why is it that everyone seems to always want to put on the blame on poor Sirius?" the animagus bemoaned.

"Because you usually deserve it," Remus explained. "But enough of this. We keep getting off on tangents. At this rate, Harry'll never finish his story."

"I was pretty much done," Harry said. "But to sum it all up, some weird government agent gave me some supposedly 'insider' information, under the pretense that helping us steal from Malfoy would serve the greater good. I think that about says it all."

"Sounds a bit too convenient if you ask me," Richard offered. "I mean, some random government type suddenly wants to help us knock off a magical casino, simply because he has some righteous idea that he should be the one to expose Malfoy? That doesn't sound right."

"I, for one, think it sounds plausible, at the very least," Minerva suggested.

"Professor… Minerva," Ellen began, "if I may be so blunt, you seem a bit too… trusting, especially considering the circumstances of the last few days. Granted, you may have been right about the horcrux, and trusting that source, but we still don't know who the source was. The same applies here. Now, I don't mean to question your judgment, since Hermione speaks very highly of you, but I'm just trying to understand where you're coming from."

"I just had, and have, a strong feeling about this," Minerva replied confidently. "I am not in any way implying that I know something that I am not sharing with the group, just that I have suspicions about the trustworthiness of these sources. I can't speak for their true motives, I simply think it makes sense."

Ellen eyed Minerva skeptically, but accepted her explanation. She was not suspicious of the transfiguration professor; she was simply asking for an explanation of her thought process. That she had a strong feeling about the sources was an acceptable explanation, even if it was a bit thin.

"Besides," Minerva continued, "what harm would there be in taking him at his word? All we really learned is that there are more security measures than we originally thought. So, at least in my mind, there's no harm in taking extra precautions to prepare for them."

Ellen now had to admit that she made a good point. Unless it turned out to be a trap, all they had really learned was to be more careful. If she looked at it like that, Ellen could understand where Minerva was coming from.

"So then where does that put us?" Harry asked.

"What do you mean, cub?" Sirius asked in response.

"I mean, where're we with… everything? You know, now that I think about it, we haven't really talked about when we're gonna do this. Voldemort's coming on the thirty-first… quite convenient if you ask me… so we have to do it sometime before he gets here. So when'll everything be ready to go?"

"I assume you're talking about our explosive little packages?" Remus asked, to which Harry nodded. "Well, once we get the ingredients, it shouldn't take more than a day to brew."

"Unless Hermione here wants to work her special kind of magic and get it done in less than an hour," Sirius suggested.

"And what makes you think I'd do that?" Hermione asked crossly. "Or would even be able to, for that matter?"

"Well, Harry here seems to think you're a right genius when it comes to that kind of stuff. He told me about the time when you brewed Polyjuice Potion in your second year. That's impressive for anyone, let alone a second year, and Harry's never let me forget it."

Harry blushed slightly but nodded as if to confirm what Sirius had said.

"As nice as that is to hear," Hermione began, "that doesn't mean I'm gonna do your work for you. You two," she said, nodding toward Sirius and Remus, "are the ones who know what you're doing. It just wouldn't be fair for me to do it for you. After all, you two are _so_ much better at it than I could ever hope to be."

"I see what you're trying to do," Sirius said. "You're trying to butter us up."

"A little flattery never hurt anyone," Hermione replied. "But it was your job in the first place, so don't go trying to pawn it off on me just so you can scarper off to the casino."

Sirius grumbled incoherently in response as he looked away in mock disgust.

"Back to the matter at hand," Minerva said authoritatively. "As Harry so eloquently put it, we have not set a time for when we will take action. Our little… distraction should take a day at most to prepare, which means that that is the earliest we can put the plan into motion."

"But we shouldn't do it too early," Ellen suggested. "We aren't scheduled to leave until August first. That means, if we steal the horcrux too soon, then we'll still be in Vegas, just waiting for Malfoy to catch us."

"That is, of course, if he finds out it was us," Sirius pointed out. "Not to mention the fact that it also hinges on whether or not he notices that we've stolen anything."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry asked, confused. "I, for one, would think he'd know pretty quickly if we've stolen anything. I can't imagine that they wouldn't visit their vault for several days. I'm sure they do it pretty often, since that's where the money is kept."

"At the very least, you bring up a good point, Harry," Hermione said. "We've talked about how we're gonna get into the security office and everything up to that point, but we haven't talked about how we're gonna pull this heist off. Getting into the security office is all well and good, but what're we gonna do after that? How're we gonna get out? Those are all things we need to figure out before we get too deep into preparations."

"Well, that certainly is something to consider," Richard commented sarcastically. "It would help if we had a vague idea of what we want to do."

"So we can't just open the vault from the security office, grab the horcrux and be gone?" Harry asked. "That seems pretty simple to me. A little messy, yes, but simple."

"And likely to get us killed," Sirius retorted. "Hermione's right-"

"She usually is," Harry whispered, earning a quiet chuckle from Hermione next to him.

"Hermione's right," Sirius continued, "we need a better plan, _and_ an exit strategy."

"Then there's the whole concept of the retinal scanners," Richard added.

"That is a problem," Remus agreed. "And since I'm not too keen on plucking out Lucius's eyeball-"

"I am," Sirius muttered.

"Then we'll need to come up with some other way of getting down that elevator," Remus finished.

"Well, don't we have a bit of time to figure that out?" Harry asked. "At the very least, we have a day, and at most, five days. So we have some time."

"But that doesn't mean we should procrastinate," Hermione objected. "Just because we have the time, doesn't mean we should waste it."

"I'm not saying we should waste it," Harry countered without malice. "But if it's gonna take at least a day to get ready, then the least we can do is enjoy ourselves a bit. We came here for a holiday, so I don't think it would hurt to take advantage of that fact. That doesn't mean we can't think of ways to get past our problems; it just means we'll be having fun while we do it. Or, at the very least, we can have fun, and _possibly_ think about it."

"Sounds like a good idea," Ellen agreed. "We could do with a bit of relaxing. At the very least, today is already wasted-"

"Once we set up our concoction to simmer," Remus interrupted.

"After that," Ellen finished. "I don't think it would hurt to play around a little. And yes, Sirius, that does mean gambling will probably be involved."

Sirius perked up at her statement, eliciting a chuckle from the others in the room.

"And it looks like Sirius wants to get started," Harry observed.

"Well, this is Vegas after all, Harry. Need I remind you of that?"

"Trust me, Sirius, I'm well aware of where we are. You keep reminding me of it every time you whine and complain about not being able to go gambling. But the funny thing is, you always want to play on the slots. You haven't, at least to my knowledge, tried anything else yet. Even I've played a table game already! You, who talk about going down to the casino all the time, haven't."

"Ouch, Harry. You went right for the heart with that one," Sirius said mockingly. "Way to go for the jugular by telling me that I'm not as good of a gambler as you."

"I never said that," Harry replied. "I just said I was more experienced. There's a big difference between skill and experience."

"Yet you don't know what my life was like before you were born, do you, Harry? For all you know, I could have been something of a card-shark, making my way through all of the casinos along the French Riviera."

"Were you?"

"No. But that's not the point. You just assumed I had no experience at table games."

"But you don't."

"Boys?" Minerva interrupted. "As much fun as it is watching you two go back and forth, maybe you could do it when you're alone?"

Sirius nodded contemplatively. "Right you are, Minerva. You know, we always say Hermione is the smartest witch of her generation, but I think you were the smartest of yours."

"And exactly what generation would that have been, Mr. Black?" Minerva asked pointedly.

"Don't answer that, Padfoot," Remus warned. "It's a trap."

Sirius waved him off. "I know, I know. I've been here before. Minerva, may I say that your radiant, youthful appearance is astounding, especially for one with your level of wisdom?" Sirius asked, reciting what was obviously a canned response.

"And may I say, Mr. Black, that your scheming and conniving is no longer as effective as it once was?"

"You are entitled to your opinion," he retorted. "But honestly, you can't judge my scheming until you see how well we do with our little… diversion. I daresay this potion of ours is going to be some of the best work we've done since Hogwarts."

"Speaking of which," Remus interjected, "I think it might be prudent to get started on it; don't you?"

"Eh… maybe," Sirius admitted. "It'll have to sit for a while anyway, so we might as well get going."

* * *

><p><em>July 26, 2011<em>

_6 PM_

Harry was startled away from his computer monitor by a sudden knock at the door to his and Hermione's room. Quickly closing the window he had been working in, Harry went to answer the door, only to find Sirius behind it.

"Getting lonely in here?" Sirius asked as he peered over Harry's shoulder. He was referring to the fact that Harry had been alone in the room, as Hermione had decided to join Sirius and Remus in their room to brew their explosive potion. Ellen and Richard had joined her, as they had never been able to see potions being brewed, and felt that it would help deepen their understanding of the magical world.

"Not really," Harry replied as he moved aside to let Sirius into the room. "I was just playing on my computer. I would've thought you'd like that."

"Well, it's yours to do with as you please. But I'm glad you're enjoying it."

"So why aren't you in the other room helping out?"

"I was. But at this point, there's nothing left to do, at least for me. Moony and Hermione are still in there, peering into the cauldron like their lives depended on it. But aside from that, there isn't anything to do, since it just has to simmer for the rest of the day. The fact that it smells like something died in there doesn't help matters either. But how about you? What're you doing in here, cooped up all by yourself?"

"Eh," Harry said with a shrug, "just killing time. Thinking about things. You know, the usual."

"Thinking about what?" Sirius asked curiously, cherry-picking one statement from Harry's response.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Harry asked sarcastically, but with a smile.

"Yes," Sirius replied simply. "And based on the fact that you're not quick to respond, I assume it has something to do with the young woman across the hall?"

"Sometimes you're too smart for your own good, you know that, Sirius?" Harry asked as he casually closed his computer as he and Sirius passed by the small table on their way to the sofa.

"That's all the confirmation I need then," Sirius remarked as they sat down. "Mind if I ask exactly what it is that's on your mind?"

"Asking for permission to be nosy, Sirius? That's a bit out of character for you."

"Hey! Just because I can be a bit… flippant at times, doesn't mean I can't be considerate when I try really, really hard."

Abandoning his usual sarcastic attitude when dealing with Sirius, Harry nodded thoughtfully.

"So, like I asked before, what's on your mind? That is, if you don't mind me asking."

Harry shook his head lightly. "You know, Sirius, I have to be honest with you: I'm getting kinda tired of these kind of insightful conversations with adults. I've been having far too many of them lately, and at this point, they're starting to blur together."

"Well, kiddo, I'm not here to offer you advice, unless that's what you want. I'm just here to talk. It beats the death by asphyxiation that I could have experienced in the other room."

"I was being serious!"

"So was I," Sirius replied cheekily. "It is my name after all."

"Sirius, don't start with that," Harry begged.

"What do you mean?"

"The whole sarcastic, joking thing. Honestly, it kinda wears thin after a while. I mean, I like bantering with you from time to time; it's really fun. But there's a time and a place for joking around, and this isn't it. If you want me to talk to you about what's going on in my life, you're gonna have to be serious."

Sirius was taken aback. Never before had someone told him that his carefree, joking personality was, in fact, annoying. He had always assumed that people liked it, especially since nobody, not even James or Remus, had told him otherwise.

"You really think it's annoying?" he asked for clarification.

"Not all of the time," Harry reassured him. "But sometimes you rely too much on sarcasm to the point where people might think you don't have the ability to be serious. I know you can be serious when the situation calls for it, but you don't always show it."

Sirius looked at Harry in regret. "You know, you're the first person who's ever told me that," he said. "Not even your father was that blunt with me. Would it help if I wasn't so sarcastic all of the time?"

"Yeah. You know, it's kinda weird for me to be on this side of the conversation, Sirius. I mean, I'm not even sixteen, for Merlin's sake, and here I am giving personality advice to a grown adult."

"It does help that you're quite mature for your age. But you know, you might be right. My attitude being what it is might explain why I've never had a relationship that lasted longer than a few months. Of course, there is the whole Azkaban thing that works in my defense, but the point still stands."

"Maybe you could try being a bit more… I dunno… or less sarcastic? I don't like to keep using that word, but it kinda works. But what if you tried that? If you're worried about your love life, you could always try that."

"Yeah," Sirius mused. "But enough about my love life, I thought we were talking about yours?"

"Are you gonna be serious?" Harry asked warily.

"I promise to try my best, Harry. Granted, there may be a time that a joke is needed, but I'm here to talk with you, not turn you away. And if that's how I have to do it, by not joking around as much, then so be it."

"Well, we kinda… had a moment earlier today while we were shopping," Harry began.

"What happened?"

Harry described what had transpired earlier that day in the book shop, ending with the awkward silence that had followed.

"Alright, then, what's the problem?" Sirius asked. "What you experienced is what we call good old-fashioned sexual tension. In other words, she likes you and you like her, but neither of you will admit it to the other. Does that sound about right?"

Harry didn't make eye contact as he shrugged. "It might be," he replied vaguely. "I can't be too sure."

"Oh, so you admit it then?"

"Admit what?"

"That you like her. And don't try to lie to me about it, Harry; you're a terrible liar."

"I never said anything like that," Harry said, dodging the question.

"Oh, but you did, Harry. You did. When I asked you if you both liked each other, you told me maybe. In other words, you like her but you don't want to admit it to me, right?"

Harry mumbled something incoherent in response.

"What was that?" Sirius asked.

"Yes," Harry grumbled.

"So you finally realized it then?" Sirius asked triumphantly, but did not wait for an answer. "So what changed? You were confused as hell for weeks, so why the sudden change?"

"I… erm… I…" Harry struggled to piece together a coherent response.

"I'm only asking because it just seems to me like nothing has changed between you two. At least from my perspective, you act the same around Hermione as you always have, which begs the question of what changed?"

"I… I don't know," Harry replied sheepishly.

Sirius gave Harry a sad smile in response. "You know what, Harry, that's alright. I was just curious, that's all; it's not really important in the end. What's important is what you're gonna do about it."

"I don't know," he repeated.

"What do you mean you 'don't know'? I think it's kinda obvious what the next step is: you ask her out!" Sirius exclaimed. "What's so confusing about that? I always thought that if you like someone you should ask them out to let them know that you're interested.

"Yeah… but what if it doesn't work out?"

"What if it does?" Sirius challenged. "Or what if you do nothing and it's really meant to be? Do you really want to have to live with that regret?"

"What I'm afraid of is living with the regret of ruining our friendship…," Harry muttered.

"Is that really what you're afraid of?" Sirius asked softly. Harry nodded slightly. "To be blunt with you, Harry, that's not really an excuse, and if anything, it's more of a reason to try something. If you don't, you'll be dancing around each other forever, and that's not something you want, is it?"

"It has gotten really awkward…"

"Then you should do something about it. Harry, stop worrying about it. I know for a fact… well, I don't know for a fact, but I have a really good feeling, that Hermione feels the same way. There are always risks in life, but there's nothing in life that's worth doing that doesn't involve at least some risk. Ask her out. Make it work."

"How?"

"'How?'" Sirius repeated. "What do you mean 'how'? I thought you said you went out with that Chang girl last year."

"Yeah, but that was only one date, and it was really awkward anyway. I don't even really remember how I asked her… as far as I'm concerned we just magically ended up in Madame Puddifoot's somehow."

"Egh," Sirius groaned. "I've made it a point never to set foot in that place as long as I live. The amount of pink and frilly things in there would suck the testosterone right out of my body."

"You're right about that. But beyond that, I'm not even sure what to do. I don't want to walk up to her and say something like, 'hey, you wanna go out sometime?' If we're still talking about awkward, that'd take the cake."

"That's why you have a plan in place first, Harry. Now, I know there's no Hogsmeade around here to use as a ready-made date location, but this is Vegas. You've gotta be able to find something that'd be enjoyable."

"Like what?" Harry asked, already considering one potential activity. But he wanted Sirius's input before revealing it.

"Normally, I'd say something active for a first date," Sirius suggested. "That's because you don't usually know each other, so it gives you a chance to get to know the other person. But since you two already know each other, that suggestion kinda goes out the window. So really, the sky's the limit. This is Vegas, so there're shows that you could see, restaurants you could go to, and there's even that insane muggle contraption at that hotel across the street."

"You mean a roller coaster?"

"Yeah, that. I swear, that thing looks like a death trap, or even something straight out of Gringotts. Mind you, they are one and the same, but I digress."

"So do you have any suggestions?"

"All I'll tell you are that there are plenty of options. Honestly, Harry, it's up to you. I don't want to make the decision for you, since you know what you and Hermione like much more than I ever will. But at the very least, you could do something that would be an extension of your current friendship. I will say that it might not be the best idea to all of a sudden ask her out to an expensive dinner or something like that. That could just be awkward. Instead, think about what you might do with her for fun, or choose something enjoyable. Don't just think of this as a 'date.'"

"What do you mean by a 'date'?"

"I'm talking about times when you and the girl go out and do something completely neutral, like going out to dinner. That's the stereotypical image of a first date, and it can end up being really sterile. Now, I'm not saying that all dates have to be like that, but I'm just suggesting that you choose something enjoyable, instead of something that might be kinda… boring."

"Well, then my idea might work," Harry mused. "But it could be kinda pricey…"

"Sorry to have to tell you this, Harry, but you're a bloke. It's our responsibility to pay for a date, at least according to society," Sirius said.

"I know that," Harry replied, "but I just don't want to seem too desperate, that's all."

"Well, I doubt Hermione would think you're desperate. She knows you well enough to be able to see through that, so don't worry. But what was your idea?"

"Well, I was thinking of taking her-" Harry was interrupted by a loud knock at the door. "Just a second," he grumbled as he rose from the sofa and made his way across the room. He opened the door to find Richard standing in the hall tapping his foot impatiently.

"Gah! They're gonna drive me barmy!" he announced as he entered the room, neatly sidestepping Harry.

"You, too?" Sirius asked sympathetically.

"You mean the nasty stench and the constant babbling about this ingredient and that ingredient?" Richard responded. Sirius nodded. "Yep, that's it. A bloke can only take so much of that kind of talk before he loses his mind!"

"Are they still going on about how we have to come up with some kind of plan?"

Richard nodded. "I eventually got out of there by telling them I was coming over here to figure it all out with you lot, which they thought was brilliant. Doesn't mean we have to do anything, though."

"But what if they ask us what we came up with?" Harry asked as Richard sat on the chair next to the sofa.

"You know, it's really hard to come up with stuff sometimes," Richard replied with a wink. Harry rolled his eyes, but Sirius chuckled in response.

"You know, I think I'm really growing to like you, Richard," Sirius joked. "But in all seriousness, we do need to come up with something. I'm sure if we put our heads together we can come up with an exit strategy and figure out what to do when we get into the vault."

"Sure, whatever," Richard said reluctantly. "Not to say I'm not for planning, but I was kinda hoping to do nothing for a little while."

"We _are_ doing nothing," Harry informed him. "But we can still just sit here and trade barbs while we think about what's going on. Nobody ever said we couldn't."

"Right you are, Harry!" Sirius exclaimed brightly, showing faux excitement at the prospect of joking around once more.

"But not too much," Harry warned him.

"Right…" Sirius replied in a cheerful, yet slightly deflated tone.

* * *

><p><em>July 26, 2011<em>

_6:37 PM_

_The Merlin Resort and Casino_

Sixteen year old Draco Malfoy followed his father's co-chairman, Andrew Wallien, through the meandering corridors of the hotel itself as they made their way toward the nearest elevator. Upon reaching it, Wallien pressed the button next to the door and waited. A moment later, the doors opened, and the pair entered the small compartment. As Wallien pressed the button to take them to the casino floor, Draco's mind wandered back to the thoughts that had been plaguing him of late.

A week before, his favorite Hogwarts professor, Severus Snape, had visited his home and suggested that the pair visit Draco's father in Las Vegas, so that the heir to the Malfoy fortune could learn about his father's empire. Draco, despite using his father's influence to gain respect and notoriety at Hogwarts, had never been particularly close to the man. Lucius Malfoy was a notoriously difficult man to please, and that attitude of his found its way into his home life as well. Draco had found this especially true each summer when his Hogwarts marks would arrive, only to have his father find out that his son's academic performance had been less than stellar. While never abused, Draco often found himself on the receiving end of a verbal lashing, as his father berated him for each poor mark he had received, despite the fact that his performance was above average. Lucius's favorite argument had been that 'no good wizard ever had his marks bought for him.' While Lucius would spend gold in an instant if it would help expand his son's social circle and garner greater influence for himself among the Slytherin families, he was hesitant to do so to exaggerate Draco's performance at Hogwarts.

As a result of the strict standard set by his father, Draco found himself not very close to Lucius. The fact that the elder Malfoy was often away overseeing one of his many business ventures did not help matters either. And so, when Snape had suggested that the pair travel to Las Vegas to visit Lucius, Draco was understandably wary. Despite this, his mother Narcissa had liked the idea, and insisted that Draco accompany Snape. Prior to this, Draco had not been exposed to his father's business ventures. Due to the fact that business was rarely discussed in the home, his perception of money had been that it was something that would somehow appear, as if by magic, and would appear in limitless quantities.

However, when they had arrived at his father's property in Las Vegas, Draco quickly learned that Lucius had not been as keen as Narcissa when it came to Snape's idea. While he was not openly hostile, he had professed to being very busy, working on what he called 'a project for the Dark Lord,' and as such, could not devote much of his attention to Draco. Draco had found this interesting. He had always known that his father was a follower of Voldemort; he had been told so at a young age. However, mentions of the Dark Lord rarely came up at home in an attempt to allay suspicions about Lucius's loyalties. Draco figured that if it was not discussed at all, then there could be little evidence to tie the two men together. Despite the lack of discussion about the Dark Lord, Lucius had informed Draco at the beginning of summer that he intended to introduce Draco to Voldemort that summer. Prior to this, the two had never met, though Lucius had implied to Draco that he should take the Dark Mark at that meeting, even though Draco had no personal investment in the Dark Lord's operation.

All of this led to Draco's current situation, where he found himself following his father's co-chairman around the resort, as his father was apparently too busy to conduct the tour himself. Most of his visit so far had been useless, as he had been confined to his room or reduced to wandering around the hotel and casino on his own. Finally, after nearly a week in the sweltering heat of Las Vegas, Severus had informed him that he would finally be introduced to elements of the casino business by way of a guided tour. Unfortunately, Draco's expectation of that tour being conducted by his father was dashed when he met Andrew Wallien, an old Hogwarts friend of his father's.

As the elevator doors opened, Draco was greeted by the all-too-familiar sight of the casino floor. Inwardly, he grimaced at the sight of so many mindless muggles as they threw away their hard-earned income in a pitiful attempt at striking it rich. Such foolishness was enough to make Draco sick, as he had been raised on the philosophy that money was something to be invested, not foolishly gambled. That so many muggles would be willing to part with their money so easily, and with such little chance of reward, only reinforced Draco's deep-seated belief that witches and wizards were, in fact, superior to muggles.

The fact that the casino may have also been populated by magical individuals was lost on Draco.

The pair stepped out of the elevator and found themselves on a raised dais that extended for several meters along the side of the circular casino before sloping gently down into a ramp on either side. The middle of this platform was occupied by the four elevators that led to the hotel itself, while the front was cordoned off by an ornate gold grate that served as a railing.

"And this is the casino floor," Wallien said with a sweeping gesture. "This is where the magic happens."

"You mean where the money is made?" Draco asked, bored.

"Of course!" Wallien replied with a chuckle. "On the average weekday, we take in almost three quarters of a million dollars a day here, which is higher than average for a resort of this size," he said proudly. "I think part of that comes from the fact that we advertise in the magical media as well as the muggle media, which means that we get the best of both worlds."

"Right, but how much of that is profit? I can't imagine it'd be much, since running a place of this size must cost a fortune."

"Remember, that amount is just from the gaming side of things," Andrew reminded him. "But profit per customer is higher than you might think. Compared to other resorts on the Strip, we don't have nearly as high of expenses, since much of our operation is accomplished using magic." He paused as a pair of guests walked behind them and entered an elevator. "Take the lights for instance. Other resorts use what the muggles call 'electricity,' which costs money. But ours is just a simple lighting charm that is free to use after paying someone to cast it."

Draco nodded silently as he continued to survey the room. The fact that night was quickly descending on Las Vegas meant that the casino was quickly growing busier.

"Wanna walk around a bit?" Wallien asked patronizingly, clearly reaching for something for the pair to do.

Draco shrugged. He had wandered around the casino floor several times before, so he knew his way around. However, this tour was part of the reason he had traveled halfway around the world, so he might as well make use of it.

With a small smile, Wallien led the way off of the platform and onto the casino floor. "Our biggest source of revenue down here is the tables," he explained as they walked. "Granted, the slot machines are great for us as well, but there's just something about table games that people love. It must be that they actually make you feel like you're in a casino or something. Or maybe they're just classier than the slot machines for some people. We've done some research and found that the reasons are different for everybody, and that a lot of people won't even go near the tables for fear that they will lose money faster there."

"With all that money coming in, you must keep a lot of it on hand, right?" Draco asked. "How much money do you usually keep here?"

"Sorry Draco, I can't answer that," Andrew replied. "You know, security reasons and the like. Lemme put it this way: if someone were to find out exactly how much money we kept here, it would make us a very tempting target. Granted, that's the same for all of the major casinos, but that's why I can't talk about it, especially out here on the floor."

Draco nodded. That was understandable, despite the fact that the secrecy only made him more curious.

"I know this isn't the most exciting tour for you, Draco," Wallien said, steering Draco's thoughts away from the resort's wealth.

"I didn't say-"

"You didn't have to. I'm sure you'd rather have your father here for this, but he's really very busy right now. You'd understand if you knew what he was working on. But I can tell you this: it kinda has to do with our security measures; at least the ones in the vault. So it's something important I can tell you that."

"Oh, no, that's fine," Draco replied quickly, trying his best to be polite. "It is kind of interesting learning about the place. I mean, I would've never done anything like this if I had stayed at home."

"Because of all of the muggles?" Wallien asked quietly, only to receive a knowing smile from Draco in response.

"They can really get on my nerves," Draco whispered. "Especially the ones who stumble into the magical world and clearly have no place there. There're a few of those at Hogwarts now that I can't stand."

"I know the feeling," Wallien agreed in a hushed tone. "There was a real bitch there when you father and I were there. Thank Merlin the Dark Lord got rid of her and her mudblood-loving husband."

Inwardly, Draco wondered if Wallien was talking about the person he thought he was, but said nothing.

"Well, should we go take a look at some of the other areas? I think I can find a way to get you into the cashier cages so you can see what goes on in there," he continued with a smile. Draco nodded slightly as the older man led the way.

* * *

><p><em>July 26, 2011<em>

_6:51 PM_

"More planes?" Sirius complained at Harry's suggested exit strategy. The trio of Harry, Sirius, and Richard Granger had spent the previous half hour intermittently discussing various ideas for how they would leave the country with something as valuable as a horcrux, without being caught by Lucius or his cronies.

"Well, there aren't a lot of better ideas," Harry defended himself.

"How many more planes?" Richard asked warily, as visions of vanishing money clouded his vision.

"I just think we should use several different flights to get home," Harry suggested. "I mean, don't buy tickets that go straight from Las Vegas back to London. I think we should weave around for a bit to throw them off of our trail."

"But what's to stop them from just catching us when we walk into the airport?" Richard asked. "Or from finding us here?"

"Well, there is that," Harry admitted.

"And who's to say that this Daltrey fellow is really who he says he is. He could just be following us around to find

out what we're up to and where we're staying. What makes it worse is that we could be letting him know what we're doing right now!"

"Richard's right," Sirius agreed. "We have to be careful about this. I almost think that speed's the most important thing for us. It almost might be worth it to risk taking an international portkey home instead of one of those muggle contraptions."

"But then won't we be caught as soon as we step foot inside Heathrow again?" Harry asked. "I thought security was tighter for portkey users than the ones who were just passing through magical security to get to the airport?"

"That's what Remus said," Sirius confirmed. "So that'll be a problem…"

"Do we have to use a _legal_ portkey?" Harry asked. "We're in Vegas, so I'm sure there's a way to get an international portkey that leads somewhere other than Heathrow."

Sirius shook his head. "Harry, you've been corrupted at entirely too young of an age."

"You were part of that," Harry reminded him. "But I thought we were gonna try and work on that?"

Sirius raised a single eyebrow but nodded subtly, as if to confirm Harry's recollection.

"Am I missing something here?" Richard asked.

"Maybe I'll tell you later," Harry told him. "But we've got other things to think about."

"And if we don't, there'll be hell to pay with the woman-folk," Richard added.

"Wait a second," Harry said. "I was just thinking about the whole 'plan' thing. Why should anyone run away screaming when they smell gas?"

"What do you mean?" Sirius asked.

"I mean, I'm sure there will be enough rational people in the casino who have smelled natural gas before, and won't be scared off by it this time."

"I thought that was why we were gonna use explosions?"

"Right, but what if they don't pay attention before?" Harry challenged. "In other words, how can we be sure that people will pay attention between the time that we release the gas and the explosions? If they don't know about the gas, or don't smell it immediately, they might not connect the two. They might just think that the explosions were random."

"But wouldn't that cause people to panic too?" Richard asked.

"Yeah, it might," Harry responded. "But it still might not have the effect we want. If we want to run the plan the way we have it set up now, we're gonna need to make sure it all fits together. So we might have to make people realize that there's something in the air that smells like gas."

"And how're we gonna do that?" Sirius pressed. "I hardly think we can announce it to the entire casino or anything like that."

"I think that's exactly what we should do," Harry replied cryptically.

"How so?"

"Well, lemme put it this way: the Dursleys never let me watch much television growing up, but I was able to catch a few glimpses of a couple of Bond films when they would be shown. I was always partial to the casino scenes myself."

"I like where this is going…" Richard muttered.

"Basically, I always saw Bond looking cool and debonair in his tuxedo as he gambled; the true epitome of sophistication. What if we tried the same thing?"

"You mean dress up and act cool?" Sirius asked. "But how will that help?"

"I think we could manage to draw attention to ourselves if we dress up and act like high-rollers," Harry explained. "Then, if we act like _we're_ smelling gas, and let people know, we might get taken seriously."

"That's a bit of a stretch, Harry," Richard informed him. "I mean, I love the idea myself. I've always wanted to get all dressed up and drop wads of cash onto a casino table. But I'm not sure that idea would work."

"Why not? I mean, it's worth a try at the very least. Maybe I'm just fantasizing, but I almost think that if we do well enough, we might be able to attract a crowd. Then we'd be able to let them know about the gas."

"That's a lot of ifs," Sirius opined. "But if we do manage to get a crowd watching us, then yes, it is possible. But I'm not too sure how likely that is to happen."

"I don't think that the real Vegas is the same as in the movies," Richard added. "Besides, whenever I see a crowd gathered around a high-roller in the movies, it usually happens at the craps tables. And I don't know about you lot, but I have no idea how to play craps."

"Well why couldn't we get the same thing to apply to blackjack?" Harry objected. "I know it'd be hard enough to generate a crowd around a blackjack table without something big going on, but I still think it's possible. We could even start the crowd on our own. Maybe if people see a few other people standing around watching us, they'll be more likely to come and check it out on their own."

"What do you mean?" Sirius asked. "Paying people to come and watch us spend more money?"

Harry shook his head. "No, not at all. Remember, we've got a few people already that we could just ask to slowly group around us. Minerva, Remus, Ellen, and Hermione are all across the hall working on that potion."

"Minerva wasn't over there," Richard pointed out.

"Okay, Minerva wasn't there. But the point still stands that once they're done with that, there isn't much else for them to do right away. I'm sure Remus would want to plant the explosives himself, but as for the rest of them…"

Sirius nodded tentatively. "Now I can see where you're going with this. Admittedly, I'm not sure it'll work, but there is a bit of merit to your idea."

"A bit," Richard agreed. "I'll admit that it's worth a shot, if only to play Bond for a night."

"And what bloke doesn't want to do that?" Harry interjected.

"Exactly. Harry, I think I'm starting to like you," Richard joked.

"I hope that wasn't a joke," Harry asked, somewhat jokingly. Richard shot him a half-smile and shrugged with one shoulder. Harry wasn't sure how to take that, but hoped that Richard was being serious.

"We'll have to get fitted for tuxes," Richard mused.

Another knock at the door startled the trio out of their thoughts. Harry rose to answer it, only to find Ellen standing in the hall.

"What're you lot up to?" she asked suspiciously as she stepped into the room, closing the door behind herself.

"What makes you think we're up to anything?" her husband asked. "I'm offended you'd even think such a thing!"

"Richard, I've been married to you long enough to know you better than that. You three have been locked in a room for almost an hour, and we haven't heard a single word from you. Logic dictates that you're up to something."

"Well Mr. Spock," Richard began, "your logic is wrong. As a matter of fact, we were just discussing the finer points of our plan of action."

Ellen nodded. "Okay…" she said as she sat down at one of the chairs around the table. "Then I'm sorry I assumed incorrectly," she added with a chuckle. "We're pretty much done with what we can do in the other room. And when I say 'we,' I mean Hermione and Remus. Basically, all I had to do was stand around and look vaguely interested in what they were doing. I mean, it's all interesting enough, but I don't know the first thing about potions, so none of it made much sense to me."

"I know the feeling," Richard grumbled.

"But it was interesting to see what it is that Hermione does while she's away," Ellen added.

"And, even if you didn't understand any of it, I'm sure you learned more in there than in your standard potions class with Snape," Harry muttered.

"Yes, Hermione said something about him not being the most… effective professor she's ever had."

"There's an understatement."

"So what've you three come up with while you were hiding in here?" Ellen asked.

"We were talking about how we're gonna get out of here with our lives," Harry answered. "It's one thing to steal part of someone else's life, it's another thing entirely to save our own after stealing it."

"Did you come up with any ideas?"

"Well, I thought we should confuse Malfoy and his cronies by flying around and switching flights before heading back to London," Harry told her.

"And I thought we should just risk it and use an international portkey. That'd get us back almost instantly, especially compared to flying," Sirius added.

"But then," Richard appended, "we realized that would be stupid since the authorities would catch us as soon as we arrived at Heathrow. Or at least Harry and Sirius. So then we thought we could try and find an illegal portkey. But we haven't figured out how to do that yet."

"Well, that's a start," Ellen offered.

"But then we spent the rest of the time trying to figure out a way to convince everyone in the casino that it's really gas that setting off the explosions," Harry said.

"I thought the explosions were gonna do that?" Ellen asked, confused.

"Well, yeah," Harry continued, slightly irritated that she had brought up the same argument as the others. "But how will they know for sure that it was the gas? How would they know that the explosions weren't just an isolated incident and that there is the risk of more of them? That's kinda what we were talking about."

"So then what's your idea?"

"Well, we were gonna dress up like high-rollers and gamble lots of money in the hopes that people will gather around. That way we'll have their attention when we start to smell the gas. If we can do that, then we can sow the seeds of panic."

"That's your idea?" Ellen questioned skeptically.

"Yeah!" Richard said excitedly. "I'm in love with the idea of acting like Bond myself, so I like the idea, too. Granted, we're gonna need the help of you, Hermione, and Minerva to make the whole thing work. You three will just need to gather around us slowly in order to draw attention. Our hope is that it'll make others come too."

"That's a lot of hoping," Ellen said. "And in general, it sounds like some bloody testosterone-fuelled male fantasy to me."

"Their idea," Sirius offered in his own defense, throwing up his hands. "Not mine."

"It's an amazing idea," Richard said proudly. "But it could work too."

"Ugh, boys," Ellen groaned as she rose from her seat and made her way to the door.

"So does that mean you'll help us?" her husband asked.

With a small smile and a shake of her head, Ellen opened the door. "We'll see," she replied as she exited the room.

"Well, there's a ringing endorsement if I've ever heard one," Richard said, reading too much into his wife's response. "So it looks like a tux fitting is on the agenda now."

"Are you sure it has to be tuxedos?" Harry asked.

"Well, why not? I mean, nothing says sophistication and high-roller more than a tuxedo."

"Yeah, but then we'd stand out like nothing else," Harry pointed out. "What if we just went with a regular suit? I know I bought one the other day… under duress of course."

"I feel for you, Harry. But I'm kinda itching to wear a tuxedo for this."

"But just think of all of the money we could save if we don't have to buy a tux," Harry argued. "That's more money we could put out on the table and use to attract more people."

"Who said anything about buying a tux?" Richard asked. "This is Vegas. There're more places than I could count that rent tuxedos."

"But we'd still look out of place," Harry continued to argue. "I mean, how many people did you see at The Merlin who were wearing tuxedos? I didn't see any. I did see a fair few who were wearing a suit and tie though, so I wouldn't feel so out of place wearing that."

"Sirius, what's your thought on this?" Richard asked, looking for a neutral third party.

"Don't get me involved in your little spat. I'm just along for the ride. I couldn't care less what I wear for it."

"Then it seems we have reached an impasse," Richard announced sagely. "Which means that one of us must yield. As the adult here, I will take the high road and defer to your judgment, Harry. Just remember that next time, you owe me a favor."

"I never agreed to this!" Harry exclaimed with mock horror.

"Oh, but you didn't have to. Just remember it next time…"

* * *

><p>Ellen knocked on the door to the Marauder's room and waited for it to be opened. A moment later, her daughter opened the door and welcomed her inside.<p>

"How's it going with them?" she asked, knowing that her mother had left to check on Harry, Sirius, and Richard.

"Well, your father and that boyfriend of yours have some foolish notion that they should dress up like James Bond and throw money around like it was going out of style."

"What?" Remus asked from the sofa on the other side of the room. "What's this about a boyfriend? I didn't hear anything about that."

"It's nothing, really," Hermione replied quickly.

"Doesn't sound like it."

"Can we not have this conversation Remus?" she begged. "Nothing's changed between Harry and I."

Remus snapped his fingers in disappointment. "And here I was hoping something had. Maybe someday that boy will get his head out of his arse and figure things out."

"Maybe…" Hermione murmured. "But mum," she continued at her regular volume, "I thought you said you wanted to come here because it would be like some spy thriller?"

"I did," Ellen replied. "But I was talking figuratively, not literally. I was thinking that planning some elaborate heist would be fun, like in the movies. I wasn't talking about getting all dressed up and going down to gamble away a fortune. There's a distinct difference between those two things."

"I guess… But I will admit that it is a pretty ridiculous idea. Which one of them came up with it anyway?"

"Sounds like it was Harry."

"What're they trying to accomplish with it?" Ellen explained, as best as she understood, what Harry had told her. "Well," Hermione continued after Ellen had finished, "it's not really _that_ bad of an idea. It could work actually."

Remus snorted as she finished speaking.

"Something wrong, Remus?" she asked suspiciously.

"No, nothing," he replied with a light cough.

"That's what I thought," Hermione said authoritatively.

* * *

><p>"Yeah," Harry began as he looked up from his computer screen, "tuxes are out of the question. Most of the ones I can find look like they're made for a wedding, so that's out."<p>

"I thought we already agreed that we were going with suits?" Richard asked.

"I was just looking into it," Harry explained. "So we are gonna play blackjack then?"

"Well, we have a couple of options," Richard began. "We could do blackjack, poker, or craps. Personally, I've always wanted to play high-stakes poker-"

"But it moves too slowly to be interesting to onlookers," Harry interrupted.

"That is a problem," Richard agreed. "I can tell you that, at least for me, craps is not worth even trying at this point. I don't know the first thing about the game."

"We could ask the Internet thing," Sirius suggested.

"Or we could just stick with something we know," Harry countered. "Which is blackjack."

"You may know blackjack, Harry, but I sure as hell don't," Sirius replied.

"Well, then, there's no time like the present to learn, right Richard?" Harry asked.

"Absolutely," the older man agreed. "It looks like we've got plenty of time to show you how to play."

"You mean right now?" Sirius balked. "That's a bit short-notice."

"Do you have anything else planned?" Richard asked.

"Well… no," Sirius admitted.

"Then we might as well play a bit while we've got the time."

Sirius threw up his hands in defeat. "Fine," he groaned. "You two've twisted my arm enough to get me to go along with you."

"We hardly did any twisting," Harry pointed out. "It almost sounds like that was a token argument that you were putting up. You really want to go down there, I can see it on your face." The Marauder was grinning slightly as he rose from his seat on the sofa.

"But I'll never admit it," Sirius said. "Anyway, I'm gonna let Moony know where we're going. I'll meet you out in the hall in a minute." Receiving nods from the other two, Sirius exited the room, leaving Harry and Richard alone.

"What did you do to him, Harry?" Richard asked as soon as Sirius left.

"What do you mean?"

"It's almost as if you neutered him. He seems a bit more… restrained now. I didn't get nearly as much sarcasm from him as usual over the last hour or so. Maybe it was just my imagination, but he seems a bit more serious."

"Well, I don't know that we can draw a conclusion from just a single hour, but yes, we did have a bit of a talk about that. I just told him that he doesn't need to be sarcastic all of the time. There's a time and a place for it, but sometimes people just want you to be serious, instead of joking around."

"How'd he take that?"

"Actually, pretty well, so I have at least some hope that he'll actually stick with it. Who knows? Maybe he just needed to be told about how he acts."

Richard nodded as he led the way out of the room and into the hall, where they found Sirius waiting.

"Well, that was quick," Harry observed.

"All I told him was that we were going down to the casino. Don't need much more explanation than that," Sirius replied. "But it was you two that took all of the time. I thought we were on a deadline here?"

"We are," Harry answered. "But we still have loads of time. Voldemort won't be here for five more days, so we have plenty of time."

End of Chapter 12

A/N: Thank you all for the positive response to chapter 11, and to this story in general. As promised, the next update came around quicker than the last, due in part to my currently increased productivity, as well as the assistance from my beta and editor, pathseekerme. Thank you again to her for all of the help!

Also, congratulations to the only reviewer who guessed as the correct name of this chapter: luvsanime02.

I do want to take a brief moment to talk about a few things, starting with characters. One reviewer mentioned that the characters in this story do not sound exactly like they do in canon, but sound about 90% identical. While I take this as a compliment, it was also not my intention to write these characters exactly as they are in the books. Even if I could write the characters exactly as JKR did, I wouldn't, as they would not be my own. Now, I don't hold onto the delusion that these characters are in any way _mine_ in reality, but I do try to imbue them with a bit of my own personality to make them stand out from other stories. If I wrote characters that were identical to JKR, then all I would own would be the plot (and maybe not that, even). As a result, the characters are tailored to the story in my writing. I am not taking issue with anything that this specific review said, I just simply wanted to talk about the issue briefly.

The review also mentioned the existence of magical America, and how what I have written is plausible. I take this as the highest compliment, as any writer wants their work to be considered believable. I have a number of ideas about magical America, which I have tried to weave into both my first story, The Divine Plan, as well as this one. However, magical America will not be revisited again for some time, as the next two stories I am planning, Playing Time and Killing Time (both of which are in the same series as this story), will take place exclusively in the UK (at least for now). We will return to the United States in the conclusion of this series, Passing Time, at least briefly.

This brings me to another point that I want to talk about: Al. Many reviewers have made guesses as to his identity, if he has an alternate identity, but I cannot comment on that. I can say that he will return in this story… very soon in fact. Chapter 12 marks the end of Act 2 of this story, and Al does play a part in Act 3. Act 3, however, is quite short compared to the others, and is made up of several very short chapters. In fact, one of the upcoming chapters is the second-shortest chapter that I've ever written, beaten only by Chapter 1 of The Divine Plan. But this is due to the short timeframe of the chapter, more than anything else. Don't worry though. Because the chapters are short, I should be able to update faster in order to keep up momentum and not disappoint you with short chapters.

With all of that discussed, let's get on to the hint:

**Chapter Title Hint:** This song, released on _The Miracle_ album in 1989, was based on the favorite saying of guitarist Brian May's ex-wife. Perhaps the most widely recognized song of Queen's later years, the music video for this song featured a large number of powerful halogen lamps, which were used to hide singer Freddie Mercury's declining health.

Thank you all for reading this chapter, and I hope you enjoyed it. This chapter marks the end of the deep conversations between Harry or Hermione and adults about their relationship (except for one brief one late toward the end). Act 3 will be very plot-driven, so I'll see you soon with that. Please leave me a review if you enjoyed this chapter!


	13. I Want It All

Chapter 13

**I Want It All**

_July 27, 2011_

_3:27 PM_

Draco Malfoy stood with his arms crossed as he waited for the elevator to arrive on the top floor of his father's resort, The Merlin. After his tour with Andrew Wallien the day before, Draco had been understandably irritated. What had been billed as a 'grand tour' with the co-chairman of the resort had turned out to be a casual stroll around the publically accessible areas of the casino and hotel, with the occasional bit of interesting information or glimpse behind the scenes thrown in from Wallien for good measure.

This entire debacle made Draco question why he had really been dragged to Las Vegas. If the reason was truly to learn more about his father's empire, then it was painfully obvious that Lucius was not truly interested in providing such information. The fact that Draco had seen very little of his father gave credibility to this theory. However, there were still other, more disturbing trends that made Draco question the trip. The entire visit had been suggested by his favorite Hogwarts professor, Severus Snape, who had convinced Draco's mother Narcissa that the time had come for Draco to learn about the family's businesses. Despite this, Draco had seen painfully little of Snape since they had arrived. He always seemed to disappear mysteriously only to reappear late in the evening or even not at all. When asked about his disappearances, Snape simply dismissed them as unimportant, or that he was simply visiting with Lucius. The possibility of the latter being true only added to Draco's irritation. Why should Snape have access to Lucius when his own son did not?

All of this led Draco to his current situation. He was determined to see his father and to capitalize on the trip he had been forced to take. From his tour the day before, Draco had learned that, while many of the lower-level managers had their offices underneath the casino, Lucius and other members of upper management were given top-floor offices.

Even though he had not been shown to get to the top floor of the resort the day before, it was not difficult for Draco to find members of the resort's staff who were willing to help him. One of the benefits of being the son of a wealthy, politically active financier was that Draco knew how to use people. His father had taught him at a young age that the best ways to get what you want were through money and influence. While Draco did not currently have money to bribe the resort's staff, he did not need it. He was the son of the chairman, and that was well known. All he had to do was ask how to get to the top floor, and most members of the staff would be willing to help him. He had quickly learned that, in order to prevent the average guest from traveling to the top floor offices, the top floor was only accessible from a hidden elevator underneath the casino, near the exit to the employee parking garage. Using his status as a Malfoy had been only too easy for Draco, who quickly gained access to this elevator and soon found himself on the top floor.

The top floor was decorated in a very similar fashion to the rest of the hotel, as Draco found out as soon as the elevator doors had opened. As opposed to some of the other muggle devices he had been exposed to on the trip so far, Draco found the elevator to be the least offensive. This may have been largely attributable to the fact that similar devices were employed in the Ministry of Magic, a building that Draco had visited many times. As a result, he was less than displeased at being forced to ride such a contraption around the building.

As the elevator doors had opened, Draco had been greeted by a long, warmly lit hallway with dark cream walls and dark wood wainscoting that accentuated the color of the walls nicely. The lighting here was lower than in other areas of the hotel, mainly originating from a series of recessed sconces along the top of the walls. The sapphire carpet only served to darken the hall, but added an air of sophistication and regality to the area.

Stretching out before the elevator, the hallway extended for what Draco estimated to be about twenty meters, and was lined with roughly a half dozen doors on each side. However, the far end of the hall was occupied by a large double door, adorned with a gold nameplate that Draco could not read from his current position.

Making his way down the hall toward the large door at the end, Draco passed by the other doors, sparing them only a passing glance as he went by. As he approached the end of the hall, Draco was able to better make out what the gold plate said. It indicated that the door was indeed the door to the chairman's office, which subsequently meant it was the office of Lucius Malfoy.

Approaching the door swiftly, Draco grasped the handle and wrenched the door open, only to stop short. There, kneeling on the floor of his office, was Lucius, groveling at the feet of a cloaked figure. Draco's eyes quickly panned up from his father to take in the mysterious character, just as they turned their head to face him.

Red eyes seemingly aglow with malice, the hooded figure ripped his wand from his cloak and turned it on Draco.

"Crucio!" the figure hissed.

Instantly, Draco felt the blinding white pain of countess knives as they tore into his flesh. He collapsed to the ground just inside the office, as another flick of the stranger's wand closed the door behind him.

"My Lord," Lucius whined from his prone position on his knees, "if you could just-"

"Silence!" Voldemort commanded. "You will not tell me what I will or will not do, understood Lucius?"

Lucius nodded feebly. "Yes, my Lord," he whispered fearfully.

"Impudent brat," the Dark Lord hissed, looking at Draco with pure contempt. He lowered his hood to reveal his snake-like visage. "Draco…you dare interrupt me when I am holding counsel?"

"My Lord, I'm sure Draco meant no disrespect-"

"Crucio!" Voldemort roared, targeting the elder Malfoy this time. "I will draw my own conclusions, Lucius," he growled as he watched the resort chairman writhe in agony. He then turned his wand back on Draco, and refreshed the Cruciatus curse, but not before casting a silencing charm on the young man. Draco continued to scream silently as he thrashed about on the floor in pain. Lucius, having recovered slightly from his brief encounter with the torture curse, rose shakily to his knees.

"You really should have raised him better, Lucius," Voldemort continued. "He has no respect for his elders…for his betters. Such a pity."

Lucius wisely chose not to answer his master, as he watched his son continue to be tortured. He had experienced the severity of the curse many times before; he knew of its potential to inflict pain. He could almost sympathize with Draco at that moment. Almost.

"And yet, his immaturity reflects most poorly on you, Lucius. After all, a child's behavior is only what a parent makes it to be. Am I right?" Lucius replied with a forced nod, not wishing to displease his master. "Good. You recognize the problem; I would be most displeased if you did not. I would also be most displeased if the preparations were not complete by tonight, Lucius. I have traveled a great distance for you not to be ready for my arrival. Make certain you are ready by tonight."

"We will be ready, my Lord," Lucius replied with a slight bow.

"Be sure, Lucius," Voldemort ordered as he replaced his hood atop his head. "Inform Peter when you are ready."

"I will, my Lord."

Voldemort turned to exit the office. "Oh, and Lucius," he added as he reached for the knob, "teach the whelp his place. I will not have my followers acting as he does."

With a silent tap of his wand against his head, the Dark Lord disillusioned himself and opened the door, disappearing through the threshold. A brief moment later, the door closed, almost of its own volition.

Even though the curse had finally been ended for good, Draco still lay on the floor twitching. Never before had he been subjected to such excruciating pain, and the aftershocks of the curse were still sending painful tremors shooting through his body. Pulling his knees to his chest, Draco curled himself into a ball and bawled silently as he continued to convulse violently.

"Get up," Lucius commanded shakily from above him, causing Draco to look up slightly at his father's ashen face.

Draco groaned, but did not comply as another shudder racked his body.

"I said get up!" Lucius repeated, kicking Draco lightly to emphasize his point.

Rather than wait for his son to get up, Lucius limped across the room and grabbed the jacket that rested on the back of the large leather chair behind his massive desk.

"Let this be a lesson, Draco," he said coldly as he passed his son once more on the way back to the door. "Do not test the Dark Lord's patience. You should never have come here. Remember that it was your foolish, self-righteous attitude that put you in that position." He nodded at Draco's prone form. "The Dark Lord has killed for much less, so you should be thankful. We'll discuss this later. For now, your behavior has cost me valuable time and has hurt my image in the Dark Lord's eyes. You have no idea how much trouble you have caused me, Draco."

With that final scathing rebuke of Draco's intrusion, Lucius left the office, slamming the door shut behind him.

"Bastard," Draco seethed as he rolled over onto his stomach. He struggled to bring himself to his knees, before placing his hands on his knees and panting. Unlike Lucius, Draco was not accustomed to the Cruciatus curse, so he was therefore still reeling from its effects.

With a mighty effort, and help from his father's desk, Draco brought himself to his feet before limping over to his father's high-backed leather chair and throwing himself into it. Letting his head drop heavily into his arms as they rested on the desk, Draco replayed the events of the past few minutes.

Draco had come to the top floor of The Merlin in an attempt to take up some of his father's time and learn something useful about the resort. Draco had long known that his father's wealth was not something that had been completely inherited, but was largely the result of hard work and effective wealth management by Lucius. Although Draco was not privy to all of the details of his father's businesses, he was well aware that this Las Vegas resort was only the tip of the iceberg. Managing such an empire took great skill, and Draco was eager to learn as much as possible in the event that he should one day take over his father's businesses.

Viewed in this light, Draco felt that his prior eager attitude was justified. However, the Dark Lord had apparently not shared that view. When Draco had entered the office, he had been shocked to see his father, the standard-bearer for strength and independence, kneeling at the feet of the Dark Lord, groveling as if for his life. This sight had stunned Draco, especially considering his father's political views. As far back as Draco could remember, Lucius had been preaching pureblood supremacy and the principle of standing up for oneself and never bowing to another. Draco had been groomed to believe that, as a Malfoy, he was superior to all others, even other purebloods, due to the family's exceptionally long lineage. To see his father at the feet of another only served to undermine years of teachings.

But that was not the worst thing that Draco had experienced in that office.

What had he done to deserve the Cruciatus curse? All he had done was open the door to his father's office. How was he supposed to know that the Dark Lord was inside? But the Dark Lord had responded swiftly and viciously, lashing out in anger using one of the vilest curses in existence and subjecting Draco to the most excruciating pain he had ever felt. Based on this, Draco was having a difficult time understanding what his father saw in the Dark Lord, aside from their similar political views. If this was how the Dark Lord treated his followers, then Draco wanted no part in it. That he had dared to torture Draco for simply interrupting a conversation reduced the Dark Lord to little more than a flobberworm in Draco's eyes, one that he could never follow…would never follow.

With a groan, Draco pushed forward, leaning more into the desk. However, his arms slid across the desk, taking his head with it. Jerking his head up, Draco found that the desk was covered in paperwork, explaining his brief slide. Sitting up, Draco slid the chair closer to the desk as he began to rifle through the pages atop the desk.

Most of the paperwork consisted of standard business reports and financial statements from the previous day's business. While the former held no interest to Draco, the latter did. The previous day, Wallien had been hesitant to talk about the resort's financial health or the amount of money they had on hand. If he could not get such information from the resort's senior management, Draco would simply read it for himself.

Looking down at the pages before him, Draco sifted through them until he came to the resort's balance sheet for the previous day. However, he quickly discarded that after realizing that it was simply a statement of the resort's assets and liabilities, rather than an analysis of their current on-hand cash supply. Instead, he turned his attention to the next page, which appeared to be a projection for the current day, including the expected value of all bets to be placed that day, as well as net revenue. At the bottom of the page, a footnote indicated that the vault balance must equal or exceed the projected bet value, as required by Nevada gaming regulations, both muggle and magical.

According to the day's projection, The Merlin was expected to receive bets totaling approximately $125 million which, according to the sheet in front of him, told Draco that the resort should have at least that much cash on hand. Interested in reading the report further, Draco pulled out his wand and copied it, before stuffing the copy and his wand back into his pocket. He then rearranged the papers so that they looked similar to how he remembered them looking, before rising to his feet and slowly making his way to the door.

Draco took one last look back at the office to make sure he was not forgetting anything before opening the door and stepping into the hall. Closing the door softly behind him, Draco shuffled down the hall, his body still aching from his encounter with the Dark Lord. As he pressed the button to call the elevator, Draco decided that he needed to see Severus. Knowing full well that the man was a brilliant potions master, Draco assumed that he would know of some way to treat the persistent ache that continued to rack his body.

Ten minutes later, Draco rounded the final corner that led to his and Snape's second floor rooms. He and Severus had been given adjacent rooms due to the fact that they had been traveling together. Despite this, the potions master had been elusive, to say the least, and Draco had seen little of him since they had arrived. He only hoped that he would be in his room when Draco arrived.

However, as Draco turned the last corner, he saw his ebony-clad professor walking away from his room, his back to Draco.

Disregarding his own comfort, Draco decided to follow Snape, in an attempt to find out where he kept disappearing to. However, once Draco saw Snape enter the elevator at the end of the hall and turn around, he ducked into one of the doorways and waited. An instant later, Draco poked his head around the corner of the nook he was hiding in, to find that the elevator doors had closed.

Realizing that he had no idea where Snape was going, Draco took the nearest stairwell down to the first floor casino, in the hopes that he would find Severus there. Throwing the door open, Draco surveyed the casino floor from his limited vantage point, hoping to catch a glimpse of the potions professor.

Sure enough, after a brief moment, Draco caught sight of a figure with long, greasy black hair which flowed seamlessly into a black tee that was matched by black jeans. Aside from the fact that Draco had just seen Snape wearing those same clothes upstairs, he would have been able to recognize his professor anyway, based on the clothing combination alone.

Sparing no time for thinking, Draco continued to follow Snape out of the casino and onto the Strip, where his target turned to the north, heading for the more densely populated portion of the Strip. Draco made sure to stay at least one hundred meters behind his quarry, in an attempt to avoid detection. However, while it was not difficult to stay far behind due to his still-sluggish movement speed, Draco found it difficult to match the potions master's long strides, due to his impaired mobility.

Eventually, Draco watched Snape enter the emerald behemoth that was the MGM Grand and quickly followed him inside. As Draco stepped inside the unfamiliar casino, he nearly lost sight of his target amidst the sea of slot machines, tables, and milling bystanders. His senses were overloaded by the veritable cornucopia of flashing lights, sirens, and incoherent conversations from the crowd. Whereas he was used to his father's casino and was, as a result, somewhat desensitized to its chaos, the MGM was a completely new experience due to its sheer size. At nearly twice as large as the casino floor at the Merlin, the size of the MGM casino made tracking Snape more difficult than ever before.

Despite his astonishment at the casino's scope, Draco was not given much time to admire it, as Snape continued to weave through the slot machines. Draco darted around behind him, remaining out of the older man's sight until the latter stepped off of the casino floor and walked toward the Signature.

Darting in and out of the crowd, Draco followed Snape to the side door that led to the Signature. Slipping in the door behind the potions professor, Draco paused to let Snape get ahead once more, noting that he continued to face ahead, never looking to see if he was being followed. Draco found this odd, as he would have thought that Snape, of all people, would be one who would be aware of his surroundings.

Pushing that thought aside, Draco continued to pursue Snape until they reached the lobby of the first tower. Here, Draco made a point of stepping into the Starbucks just off of the lobby, as he watched Snape move toward the elevators. However, the elevator alcove was occupied by what looked to be a trio of large parties, all waiting for a different elevator. While Draco could not hear Snape, he could imagine the man's grumble as he moved to the stairwell, completely ignoring the elevators.

Five minutes later, having limped up the stairs behind Snape, Draco emerged onto the eighth floor, just as he saw his prey step through a doorway at the end of the hall, closing the door behind himself.

Draco made his way toward the door that Snape had entered before stopping directly in front of it. Did he dare follow the professor into the room? He had no idea what lay behind the door, but as Draco's body was wracked by another spasm, he decided he had to follow.

After a tentative knock on the door, Draco stood to the side and waited.

A moment later, the door opened slowly, and Draco tried to peer inside just as Harry's head poked out from between the door and the frame.

The two Hogwarts rivals stared at each other in menacing silence for a moment, neither one of them daring to break the silence at first.

Finally tired of the stare-down, Draco relented. "Potter," he snarled, never breaking eye contact.

"Malfoy," Harry responded, his voice dripping with venom. "What do you want?"

"I need to see Professor Snape-"

"He's not here," Harry replied quickly.

"Bullshit!" Draco exclaimed. "I saw him walk through this door not one minute ago!" He pushed his way past Harry and into the hotel room, to see Hermione, Richard, Ellen, Sirius, Remus, and Minerva also in the room, in addition to Snape. "What's going on here?" he asked in puzzlement.

"Nothing of your concern," Snape replied silkily. "There are things at play that you could not possibly understand-"

"You mean like the Dark Lord being here in Las Vegas?" Draco asked, a touch of superiority lacing his voice. "Or the fact that he apparently has a fetish for torturing people?"

"What?" Hermione screeched in alarm. "That can't be right! He wasn't supposed to be here for a few more days yet!"

Draco quirked an eyebrow at her response as he sat down heavily on the only free chair in the room, which happened to be one of the chairs around the table. "And how would you know that?" he asked with a wince as he sat down.

"None of your business!" Harry snapped before Hermione could reply.

"Harry…" Hermione said softly, warning him off as he sat back down next to her. Harry snorted softly in anger, but did not push the issue any further. "What happened to you?" Hermione asked, having spotted Draco's wince.

"None of your business," Draco replied, echoing Harry's words, but with less force. "I'm more interested in what you lot are doing here."

"And what business is that of yours?" Richard asked. "I don't even know who you are, except for the fact that you burst in here, interrupt our little meeting, and expect us to bow down before you."

"I think he's Draco Malfoy, dear," Ellen offered.

"Ah," Richard replied. "That'd explain the cocky attitude. I've heard a bit about you, boy. Sounds like you've given my daughter no end of grief. Is that right?" He glared at Draco coldly, awaiting a response. However, he would not receive one, as Snape came to Draco's rescue.

"Draco," he said, ignoring Richard's remarks, "what did you see?"

Draco eyed the others carefully for a moment before he launched into his story. "Well, I was going up to my father's office to make him teach me a bit about the casino-"

"Naturally," Harry muttered.

"When I went into his office, I found him bowing before the Dark Lord. As soon as I walked in, the Dark Lord…" he trailed off.

"Did what?" Sirius asked expectantly, and with a touch of annoyance.

"Put him under the Cruciatis," Snape whispered, looking to Draco for confirmation.

Hermione gasped as her hand flew to her mouth, causing Harry to glance at her curiously.

"Serves him right," he said callously.

"Harry!" Hermione cried. "That's terrible!"

"What?" Harry asked with a shrug. "He's a right ponce."

"Don't hold back Potter," Draco said dryly.

"That still doesn't mean he deserved the Cruciatis curse!" Hermione argued before lowering her voice to a whisper. "You of all people should understand that."

Harry did not respond as his eyes darted back and forth between his best friend and his worst enemy.

"Anyway," Draco continued, "yes, the son of a bitch used the Cruciatis on me. If he thinks I'm gonna follow someone that tortures his followers for a laugh, then he's got another thing coming. There's no way in hell I'm gonna bow before the bloody bastard!"

"What do you mean?" Harry asked suspiciously. "Everyone knows he has a short temper. I saw it myself in the graveyard! You can't expect me to believe you didn't think he would do something like this!"

"Well, I didn't tell you what to believe, Potter," Draco spat. "I'm just telling what happened, and that the Dark Lord can rot in hell for all I care!"

"Forgive me for my skepticism," Remus began, "but I tend to agree with Harry here. From what I remember, you've always been one to antagonize muggle-borns and denigrate anyone who was not a pureblood. Unfortunately Draco, I find your story somewhat… unbelievable."

"Actually," Minerva interjected, "it's not so hard to believe as it might seem. Mr. Malfoy here has always talked a good game, but has rarely backed that up with meaningful action. In other words, he's all talk and no show. True, he prances around the school like God's gift to man, and accosts those that cross his path, but underneath that, I don't think he has the stomach to be truly evil."

"I'm not sure whether to be insulted by that or not," Draco muttered.

"I still refuse to believe him," Harry maintained stubbornly. "He's been nothing but trouble since we met - always out to ruin our lives. What reason do I have to believe this is any different?"

"Harry's right," Hermione agreed. "I mean, going under the Cruciatis is terrible and all, but that still doesn't mean anything."

"What do want me to do to prove I'm telling the truth?" Draco asked exasperatedly. "The Dark Lord _is_ here. I saw him! What more proof do you need than the fact that I'm still shaking from being tortured?"

There was silence in the room for a moment before Minerva responded. "Severus," she said simply, nodding between the potions master and his pupil.

With a subtle nod, Snape slowly withdrew his wand from his pocket before turning to Draco. "Draco, relax," he directed as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Wait! What're you doing?" Draco asked in alarm as Snape trained his wand him.

"Legilimens!" Snape barked.

* * *

><p><em>July 27, 2011<em>

_4:29 PM_

Severus Snape quietly closed the door to Minerva McGonagall's bedroom before taking a seat around the small glass table in the kitchenette.

"He'll be alright, won't he?" Emma asked in concern.

"In time," Snape replied tiredly. "He did not relax and open his mind as I instructed. That, combined with his recent experience with the Cruciatis curse means that my legilimency was more… stressful than normal."

"You didn't even tell him to open his mind!" Harry hissed. "How was he supposed to be ready if you didn't even give him the chance? It's the same stunt you pulled with me!"

Snape shrugged as he glanced back at the bedroom door, where he had placed Draco after his draining legilimency session.

"So what did you learn then?" Remus asked, changing the subject.

"Mr. Malfoy is indeed telling the truth," Snape replied. "I was unable to determine his true emotions or motivations, but he was telling the truth with regards to what transpired."

"Anything else?" Richard asked.

"The most troubling thing I learned is that the Dark Lord plans to key himself into the vault wards this evening, and that Lucius is to inform Peter when the preparations have been made."

"What?" Sirius and Remus shouted at the same time, ignoring Draco's slumber.

"Peter's here?" Sirius asked, anger beginning to boil up from within.

"It would seem that way," Snape replied calmly as his lips curled into a smile at Sirius's response.

"That little rat…" Sirius muttered angrily. "We've gotta get him!" he declared as he leapt to his feet.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Richard cried, jumping in front of Sirius. "What's the rush? What's so important about this Peter fellow?"

"A slimy little bugger that used to be our friend," Remus answered scathingly.

"Okay…" Richard replied slowly. "That doesn't really tell me a lot…"

"Peter Pettigrew… he betrayed my parents and forced Sirius to spend thirteen years in Azkaban," Harry added. He watched as, under the intense gaze of Richard, Sirius sat back down. The elder Granger followed suit immediately thereafter.

"And so you want revenge?" Richard asked.

"You're damn right I want revenge!" Sirius confirmed. "That rat wasted thirteen years of my life and killed two of my best friends! He's the only thing standing between me and freedom! So of course I want to get my hands on him!"

"Do you even know where he is?"

Sirius opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Richard took this to mean that he had no idea where Peter was.

"Look, it's all well and good that you want to catch the bloke that's made your life a living hell. But you've gotta do it the right way. You don't even know where he's at. Are you planning on going around and checking every hotel room in Vegas? I think that'll take a bit more time than we actually have."

"Then what do you suggest?" Sirius asked. His attention was now focused on Richard, as the man actually seemed like he had an idea of what to do.

"Well, from the looks of it, we've got two perfectly good spies here in this room… well, one in this room, and one in the other."

"No!" Harry proclaimed. "I don't want Malfoy involved! We can't trust him, the past five years have proved that! And no sudden turn of events can change that!"

"Normally, I'd agree with you, Harry," Ellen concurred. "But can you be so certain? I mean, I don't know the boy nearly as well as you do… outside of the fact that he's hated Hermione for years. But I think everyone deserves a chance, don't you?"

"No."

"And I agree with that sentiment for the most part too," Richard agreed. "We could use Severus here to find out where this Peter is. But I almost think it'll start looking a mite suspicious if it seems like he's always the one who keeps fishing for information. Loathe as I am to admit it, I almost think that Draco in there is our best bet. Trust me, it's not my first choice, but it might be the best."

"We don't even know if he's trustworthy!" Harry protested. "For all we know, he could go running to daddy and let him know everything we're planning! Not to mention that we don't even know if he'd agree to help us in the first place!"

"You assume quite a lot there, Potter," a voice said from the bedroom door in an aristocratic drawl.

Every head in the room spun to see Draco leaning against the frame of the bedroom door, arms crossed. Snape rose from his seat to help Draco to a chair, but the latter waved the former off, indicating that he was fine.

"How do you know that I wouldn't help, Potter?" Draco continued.

"Because you never have in the past!" Harry retorted. "Besides, you don't even know what's going on!"

"I know a bit. I've been standing here longer than you might think. The fact that you didn't notice me puts me in a pretty good position, wouldn't you say? From what I gather, you want to take down Pettigrew, right? But that's not the whole story, is it? You're here for something else. And based on the fact that you brought the Gryffindor alumni with you, it means something big's going on… am I right?"

"We don't have time for this," Harry announced in an attempt to marginalize Draco. "We've gotta get moving if we want to get this done before they get the vault sealed."

"The vault?" Draco asked. "Oh, now that sounds interesting. And what, pray tell, could possibly be in there that's so interesting to you?"

"None of your business!"

"Oh, testy are we? That means it must be something good. So lemme think here; there's something in the vault that's interesting to you. That either means you want to steal it or make sure nobody else gets it. And if it's good for you, that must mean it's bad for the Dark Lord. I want in."

"Oh, come on!" Harry balked. "What's in it for you? Face it Malfoy, you never do anything if it doesn't benefit you in some way. So what's your angle?"

"What's yours?"

"Boys!" Hermione scolded. "Knock it off! We've got better things to do!"

"Yeah, Potter, listen to your girlfriend for once," Draco mocked. When Harry didn't respond, Draco broke out into a wide grin. "Oh, so you don't deny it, eh? That's rich! Just wait until the rest of Hogwarts gets wind of this! Potter and the mud-"

"ENOUGH!" Minerva roared, silencing the blonde. "I will not have that word uttered in my presence, is that understood, Mr. Malfoy?" Draco nodded dumbly. "Good. Now sit down, shut up, and pay attention, because what you hear in this room will not be repeated."

"You mean you're actually going to tell him?" Harry asked in shock. "We can't trust him!"

"I will admit that trust is something to be earned, Harry," Minerva replied, "but I also believe that trust cannot be earned unless it is given. Mr. Malfoy deserves at least one chance. But be aware, Mr. Malfoy, that if you betray our trust this time, you will never be trusted again."

"I can't believe this," Harry groaned as Draco nodded once more at Minerva's statement.

"Harry," Hermione whispered into his ear, sending a brief shiver up his neck, "I think she knows what she's doing. She's been around the block a lot more times than we have, so we might as well just trust her judgement."

"Yeah, but…" Harry trailed off, not able to produce an effective counterargument.

"Now," Minerva pressed on, continuing to focus her attention on Draco, "Severus here has indicated that, at the very least, you have told us the truth so far. We are putting a great deal of faith in you here, Mr. Malfoy. Do not disappoint us."

"Yeah, yeah, just get on with it," Draco muttered under his breath. Minerva, apparently, did not hear him.

"We have information that You-Know-Who… oh, sod it… Voldemort has hidden something of great value in your father's vault. This object is, by your father's own words, the key to Voldemort's immortality. Obviously, we cannot leave such an item in the enemy's hands."

"So you're gonna steal it?"

"That is our goal, yes. However, there are a number of things that must go right in order-"

"I want in," Draco interrupted.

"But you don't even know what we're planning," Sirius objected.

"I don't care. I just want to see that snake-faced freak burn in hell for what he did to me! Anything I can do to make his trip easier, just let me know!"

"Well, at least he's got energy," Ellen said quietly, leaning over to her husband.

"But get this straight. I'm here for me. I'm not here to join your goody-two-shoes band of hand-holding super friends. This is about me wanting to screw over the Dark Lord."

"Alright…" Harry said slowly. "I think we get that."

"No, I don't think you do, Potter," Draco snapped back. "I don't just want to take away whatever it is the Dark Lord is hiding here. I want to ruin him completely."

"How?" Remus asked. "That doesn't sound like some idle idea or anything like that. It sounds like you have something specific in mind."

"I found this," Draco began, pulling the paper out of his pocket, "in my father's office. It says here that the Merlin has about $125 million stored away in their vault."

"So?" Harry asked.

"I want to steal it, too," Draco replied simply.

"What? You've got to be kidding!" Harry protested. "How're we supposed to steal two things at the same time? You're asking the impossible!"

"You want my help; you do it my way," Draco responded as he crossed his arms in triumph.

"Then I don't think we need your help!"

"How hard could it be, Potter?" Draco asked. "You're already in the vault, so how hard is it to take a bit more than you came for?"

"The problem is time," Harry pointed out haughtily. "It's not like we're gonna have all the time in the world once we get inside the vault. We'll be on borrowed time as it is, where every second counts. We can't spend more time just to satisfy your petty grudge."

"I can't believe you think it's a petty grudge! I mean, it's obvious, even to me, that this casino is just a front to funnel money to the Dark Lord. Think of it as a two-pronged approach to defeating him; take his precious item while at the same time ruining his financial situation."

"It might actually be possible…" Richard mused. "As much as I hate to admit it, because of what Hermione's said about him, he might actually be our best bet. Putting the whole issue with Peter aside, we still have to get the key to the inner vault, remember? I don't really think there's anyone who's in a better position to do that than Draco here."

"See?" Draco asked, "even the muggles agree with me!"

"Don't push your luck, kid," Richard growled. "I said you make a bit of sense, not that I liked you. I can't see that ever happening, so don't get too cozy. Remember, I dislike you just as much as you don't like me."

"So then what's the plan?" Draco continued, ignoring Richard's comment.

Begrudgingly, Sirius took the stage and explained what the group had planned so far, as well as some of the security measures that they would be up against.

"That's it?" Draco asked. "You don't even know what you're gonna do once you get back there? Come on! You've only got a little bit of time before whatever it is gets sealed away for good!"

"Well, then what's your grand idea?" Harry challenged.

"Polyjuice potion," Draco replied simply. "You can't get past that…what did you call it? Retinal scanner? You can't get past that without it."

"Did you not hear Sirius when he said that you can't use Polyjuice Potion in the Merlin? They pump a Polyjuice-reversal Potion into the casino! Polyjuice is useless!"

"After a few minutes! You've got a few minutes that you can use it for, so why not take advantage of that? You only need a few seconds to fool a retinal scanner! Why not use Polyjuice? It's the easiest solution!"

"He does have a point," Severus opined, speaking up for the first time since Draco had left the bedroom. "However, the camera system will pose a problem, as it would record any Polyjuice transformation."

"We already had a plan to take care of that," Ellen pointed out. "Something about getting into the security office and disabling them. Of course, we don't even know how we're gonna do that, but that was the basic plan."

"So you'd better get that figured out," Draco said. "There isn't much time."

"'_We'd_' better get it figured out?" Harry asked in amazement. "I thought you said you wanted in? Oh wait. I forgot. You'd never help us do something against Voldemort; you're just a dirty Slytherin who couldn't bear to see his precious Dark Lord hurt. I think we can do this without your help."

"You think all Slytherins are the same, Potter?" Draco whispered dangerously. "You have no idea how wrong you are. If you've ever paid attention to the Sorting Hat, you'd know that Slytherin is for the ambitious, not the dark."

"I know that," Harry said quietly. "The Sorting Hat told me that too."

"Then you'll also know that ambitious does not always equal evil. Am I a muggle-lover like your precious Headmaster? Of course not. I was raised to believe that the purebloods should live like kings, instead of slaves at the feet of another master. I won't be a slave to anyone, especially some two-bit Dark Lord who likes to torture his own followers. While I may not share your view of peace, love, and harmony between all God's creatures, I'm not about to throw my freedom and life away for some shallow promise of greatness. I'll achieve that for myself."

"Boys," Remus interrupted, "as interesting as this is, it's after five o'clock. I don't know how much time we have before they seal the vault, but it can't be much. Don't you think we should get moving?"

"Right," Sirius agreed. "Just get the Polyjuice potion-"

"I'm sure the apothecary down the street had some," Hermione interjected.

"So check there," Sirius continued, nodding to Severus and Draco, "then we'll get going. We'll have to knock out the security cameras during the… distraction. Draco, you'll need to get that key from Lucius and get it to Harry in the security office. You'll also have to go with him to the vault-"

"No way!" Harry protested.

"Would you rather go alone?"

"I'd rather have someone I could trust going with me," Harry explained. "Someone like… Hermione here."

"Then who'll watch the cameras?" Sirius asked. "I doubt Draco here would understand muggle technology. And as much as I think the Grangers here would be a perfect fit for that, what if something goes wrong? They don't have magic to back themselves up if something goes wrong."

"What about you or Remus?"

"We've got a rat to catch," Sirius answered simply. "Once everything gets moving, of course. It'll be easier to pick him off in a possible evacuation than otherwise. I'll just need to know where he's staying. If one of you two could find that out?" He looked to Severus and Draco once more, and received a curt nod from the former.

"So once we're down there, we take whatever it is you lot are after, as well as the money, right?" Draco asked.

"I really don't think there's a reason to," Hermione said. "I mean, Lucius has got to have insurance to cover that kind of thing, right? It only makes sense."

"But he doesn't," Draco replied, biting back a retort. "I know how he thinks; insurance costs too much for too little security. I'm sure my father thinks that, because he's using magical security, there's no chance he's gonna get robbed, so I'm sure he's using his own fortune as collateral. In other words, if we knock off the vault, it'll do real damage to the Dark Lord's operation since he won't have as much money to fall back on. I don't care what you do with the money, I just want to see the Dark Lord suffer."

"Fine!" Harry conceded, throwing up his hands. "We'll try, but I won't promise anything. But let's get moving. I actually want to get this done before it's too late." He rose from his seat for added emphasis, as the others slowly followed suit.

"The Dark Lord did emphasize that he wanted to do this 'tonight,'" Draco informed them as he moved to the door.

"But I don't want to have everything go down to the wire," Harry replied. "Just because we might have a bit of extra time doesn't mean we should use it."

"Will you two knock off your petty bickering?" Minerva asked. "You have to work together, and that's the end of it." She walked out of the room, followed by everyone else with the exception of Draco and Harry.

"I still don't trust you," Harry growled once they were alone.

"Then that's your problem. But watch me prove you wrong."

End of Chapter 13

A/N: Well, we had a bit of a wait between chapters 12 and 13, but nothing too long, hopefully. I have to once again thank pathseekerme for editing this chapter, even if she has a lot of other things going on right now.

First off, I want to congratulate the following reviewers for correctly guessing the title of this chapter: osc630, luvsanime02, HHrbelong2gether, acam, and Dora Penmoko. Remember, if you want a shout out in an author's note, all you have to do is leave a review and hazard a guess about the title of the next chapter!

As a reminder, this chapter begins what I like to refer to as a "V" in the length of the chapters. This chapter is shorter than the past few, and chapter 14 will be shorter, and 15 shorter than that. However, the chapters will begin to increase in length once again following that dip.

While there is not much to talk about this time around, there are two things that I want to touch on briefly, pertaining to this story. Reviews continue to ask when Harry and Hermione will get together. While I do not take these as aggressive or negative reviews, I do want to address the question. Harry and Hermione will be together by the end of the story. While I do not want to give an exact length for the story, as could affect dramatic tension, I will say that we will see more development of the Harry/Hermione relationship after this brief story arch that I discussed above. The next few chapters take place over the course of a few hours, so there cannot be much romantic development in that short amount of time. That said, now that both characters have admitted how they feel to themselves, we will start to see Harry and Hermione stop dancing around each other and start dancing toward each other. This may mean more intimate moments and increased flirting. But have no fear, there is a plan to put them together by the end of this story. The second thing is that this story is not a Draco redemption story. I am writing Draco, as we saw in this chapter, as someone who is very self-centered and arrogant. I don't believe him to be evil, however he is no great beacon of light either. That is the way I want to portray him; almost as an agent of chaos, so to speak, always in it for his own interests. That is not to say, however, that the character will not change over the course of this series. But if I'm honest, I currently have no plans for that… however, that could change.

**Chapter Title Hint:** While I could very easily give this song away with a single hint, I will not do that. Instead, I will tell you that this song, off of the _Magic_ album, was credited to Freddie, and is a heavy song whose lyrics relate strongly to those of another song title that I have already used, which was also off of the _Magic _album. It is also the only song on the album whose music video appears to be filmed entirely outdoors.

I do want to make a couple of notes about the chapter titles. The first is that, when considering what song may be used as a chapter title, also consider what you think will happen in the next chapter. Every song I choose relates, in some way or another, to the events of that chapter. For example, with this chapter, _I Want It All_ refers to the attitude that Draco had, demanding that the group steal the cash from the vault as well. Guessing about the events of the next chapter can help eliminate possible songs from contention.

The other note about chapter titles deals with my future stories. I fear that when I developed this story, I may have, for lack of a better term, blown my load with regards to big-name Queen songs. While the big-name songs are clustered toward the end of the story, it does not help matters any that I am wanting to use the same theme for the rest of this series. As I finish writing this story (which I am right now), I am beginning to ramp up development on the rest of the series, including thinking of applicable chapter titles. I will attempt to continue to use Queen songs for the rest of the series, in order to keep up this theme. However, it may not be possible. I can tell you this, however: if I start a story with a Queen song, the rest of the story will use the same theme.

So, I think that about covers everything I wanted to talk about. Thank you all for reading, and please leave a review for me. I can't grow as a writer without feedback, but I do love to get glowing reviews as well, as they really do help with this story. Every positive review I get helps make me a bit more determined to write that much better, or that much faster. I hope you all continue to enjoy the story and I will see you soon with chapter 14!


	14. Princes of the Universe

Chapter 14

**Princes of the Universe**

_July 27, 2011_

_5:38 PM_

_The Signature at MGM Grand, Room 818_

Hermione packed the final brick into her purse before snapping it closed. She and Remus had spent the time since leaving Minerva's room shaping the explosive concoction Remus and Sirius had created into small bricks. Left alone, these gel bricks were harmless. However, when combined with a second, liquid ingredient, a chemical reaction is triggered, allowing a few short minutes before detonation. When crafting the bricks, however, Remus and Hermione had found that they had more gel than anticipated, so they had made the decision to make a third brick, giving extra credibility to their distraction.

"So the trash cans then, right?" Hermione asked for clarification as she finished packing.

"Yeah," Remus confirmed, "but I was kinda thinking it would make sense to use one of the cans near where the others will be playing. That is, if they still plan on going through with that little high-roller ruse of theirs."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I don't doubt it. Can you imagine them giving up the fantasy of being James Bond? Trust me; they're still planning on it."

"That's what I thought," Remus said with a smile. "So why not give them a bit of a surprise?"

It took Hermione a brief moment to catch his meaning. "You sly dog!" she laughed. "That's perfect! Of course, they'll hate us for the rest of their lives…but it'll be worth it!"

"I just thought it had been too long since I had pulled a good prank on Sirius. You know, it's like they say: use it or lose it."

Just then, a knock at the door interrupted their conversation. Hermione went to answer it, only to find her mother in the hall outside.

"You two ready to go?" she asked, peering over her daughter's shoulder into the room. "The clock's ticking."

"I know mum," Hermione replied exasperatedly. "We were just finishing up. Give us another minute; we were just figuring out exactly where we wanted to put the things."

"Well, it better not be anywhere that'll hurt anyone. The last thing we need is to become the bad guys."

"Yeah, we thought of that. Anyway, we're almost done. Is everyone else ready?"

"I haven't checked on them yet. You two finish up and I'll be back in a minute after I see what trouble your father could possibly be up to. But you'd better get ready too." She turned and walked away, leaving Hermione to close the door again.

"I was just thinking," Remus began as soon as she turned back around, "we're gonna need two of us to set these things up. Think about it: it'd look mighty odd for one of us to stand around a trash can fiddling about."

"What if I went by and dropped off the bricks and you come along a bit later and add the final bit?" Hermione suggested. "That way it won't look quite as suspicious."

"That'd work. Remember, we've got exactly four minutes between putting the two parts together and the glorious explosion that follows."

"Glorious?" Hermione asked. "Sounds like you've spent a bit too much time with Sirius."

"Kiddo, I reached the point of having spent too much time with Sirius two decades ago. You're a bit late on that one."

"Touché. Ready to go?"

"Yeah, let's get going."

* * *

><p><em>July 27, 2011<em>

_5:51 PM_

_The Signature at MGM Grand, Room 814_

Harry Potter stood in front of the mirror in his and Hermione's room as he straightened his solid black tie for what seemed like the tenth time. The ebony tie stood out nicely against his pure white shirt set which, in turn, was set against his jet black sport jacket.

After straightening and tightening his tie for the eleventh time, Harry tugged at his sleeves just as he was interrupted by a loud banging at the bathroom door.

"Oi! Harry!" Sirius shouted through the door. "We don't have all day. Hermione'll think you look good no matter how long you spend making yourself look pretty!"

"What was that?" Richard asked, his voice muffled by the door. Harry craned his neck to try and hear the two men outside.

"Just some good-natured ribbing, that's all," Sirius explained.

"Uh huh," Richard replied, unconvinced.

Harry opened the door of the bathroom and stepped out to find that the other two had already changed into their suits, as they had previously agreed. Harry had to admit that he was a bit excited at the prospect of gambling while dressed so formally. Looking at the other two, he could see that, at the very least, Richard seemed to share his excitement. Sirius, on the other hand, seemed as though he was containing his excitement very well, if he was excited at all. Harry suspected that he was, but that he was indeed hiding it in order to maintain his dour attitude about the entire affair.

"Does it fit?" Sirius asked as Harry stepped out.

Once more, Harry tugged at his sleeve. "Yeah, but that doesn't make it any more comfortable," he replied. "But I already knew it fit. Hermione and Ellen just had to make sure of that when I bought it."

"You know, I still do pity you, Harry," Richard said honestly. "It takes a real man to survive going on a clothes shopping trip like that with two women. Many men have failed to return from lesser trips."

"I agree," Sirius added thoughtfully, rubbing his chin for effect. "In fact, if I recall, each of those round clothing racks is actually a tombstone dedicated to each man who has fallen in the line of duty."

"Wow, I never realized it was so serious," Harry replied with mock severity. "But yeah, it fits."

"Good. We don't want it shifting around when we apply the glamours," Sirius explained. "Then again, if all we're changing is your face, then it doesn't really matter. Oh well."

Harry tugged at his collar, trying to free up some space for his neck, only to find that the collar snapped back into place as soon as he let go.

"You know, if you keep picking at it, it'll never heal," Sirius said.

"Yet another pearl of wisdom from Sirius the wise." He glanced at the clock on the stove. "It's about time. Do you think everyone else is ready?"

"Well, Ellen stopped by while you were fiddling with your shirt in the bathroom," Richard said. "Seems like everyone else is ready to go; we were just waiting on you. Hermione and Remus said that they were just finishing packing everything up and that they had both already changed and were ready to go. So the question is: are you?"

Harry shrugged. "As ready as I'll ever be. Might as well get it over with."

"That's the spirit, Harry!" Sirius exclaimed. "Set your expectations low and you can't be disappointed!"

Harry stuck his tongue out at Sirius as they moved to the door. He opened it and stepped out into the hall to find the others already waiting. Harry's eyes swept across the other four, finding that Minerva and Ellen were clad similarly, with Ellen in a pair of casual black pants and a light purple blouse, and Minerva with identical pants but a maroon blouse. Remus, it seemed, had not bothered to change, and was instead dressed in a simple pair of dark jeans and a plain dark blue tee. However, Harry's eyes quickly darted to Hermione who looked to be dressed in a very familiar periwinkle dress.

"Is that the same dress…?" he trailed off as his eyes swept upwards, eventually landing on Hermione's face, which was blushing prettily.

"No," she replied with a light shake of her head. "But it's pretty much identical, just a different size."

"Yeah," Harry replied dumbly as he struggled to maintain eye contact.

Suddenly, an elbow in his side brought him back to reality. "Ow!" he exclaimed, his head jerking around to see Sirius to his side. "What was that for?"

"What was what for?" Sirius asked innocently. "I just had some weird muscle spasm, that's all."

"Right," Harry muttered.

Twenty minutes later found the group nearing the Merlin, having clearly splintered into a number of small factions. For their part, Harry and Hermione were walking together, Hermione consistently walking less than two inches away from Harry. Harry had noticed this, and while his eyes kept darting over to Hermione, he made no move to increase the distance between them.

"I do like that dress," Harry commented softly as they walked.

"Thanks, Harry," she replied with equal softness, though the happiness in her voice was evident. She moved slightly closer to him as they approached the casino, allowing her hand to brush his.

Passing it off as accidental, Harry ignored the incident, and instead opened one of the large glass doors for Hermione.

"Thanks, Harry," she repeated as she stepped inside, maintaining eye contact longer than was necessary as she did so. However, instead of following her inside, Harry paused for a moment, still holding the door open, as he watched her walk inside. With a small smile and a shake of his head, he let go of the door and followed her.

After a brief visit to the restrooms, which resulted in Harry and Hermione taking on the same appearance as when they had visited the resort for the first time a few days before, the group broke apart. Watches synchronized with the others, Ellen and Minerva, now wearing transfigured dealer uniforms, split off and moved to the side of the casino, intent on finding their way off of the casino floor. Remus went his own way to wait for Hermione to finish with her part of planting the explosives, which left Harry, Richard, and Sirius to their own devices.

"Well, gentlemen," Richard began, "shall we play?"

Harry nodded sagely. "Yes," he said with mock sophistication, "indeed we shall."

Sirius chuckled lightly as the trio made their way toward the cashier cage in a bid to exchange a large sum of Sirius's money for chips. A few minutes and thirty thousand dollars later, the three left the cashier and stood on the edge of the casino, surveying the sight before them.

"So, where should we go?" Sirius asked, deferring to Harry and Richard after he split the chips evenly among the three.

However, just as he finished speaking, Harry spotted something. "Come on!" he hissed, taking off toward the blackjack tables.

Richard and Sirius followed behind him, wondering what had set him off. They followed Harry to an empty blackjack table, the minimum bet at which was identified as one hundred dollars. But as soon as Sirius and Richard reached the table, it quickly became apparent that Harry was not at all interested in the minimum bet. He was more concerned with the elderly dealer sitting on the other side of the table.

"Ah, Harry, you came back," Al observed, looking up from the cards he had been idly shuffling.

"Oh, don't 'ah, Harry' me," Harry barked. "What were you thinking, giving me that kind of information and then vanishing completely?" He sat down on one of the stools opposite Al, as Richard and Sirius took up seats on either side of Harry.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about, Harry," Al replied innocently.

"Don't give me that," Harry growled as he looked around the casino to make sure that they were not being overheard. "You gave me a slip of paper that said 'horcrux' on it. You can't tell me that wasn't planned!"

Al shook his head sadly while his face still bore a sad smile. "I can assure you, Harry, that whatever preconceived notions you have about me are completely false. I am here to deal cards, and that's it. If you think I'm here for anything else, well, then that's pure fantasy."

"Then why doesn't anyone else on the floor know about you?" Harry challenged. "We talked to one of the pit bosses, and they said that there was no 'Al' working here. How do you explain that?"

Al shrugged. "I can't," he said simply, causing Harry to grin triumphantly. "I can't tell you every flaw about every person here; it's just not possible. I couldn't even begin to speculate about why a specific person doesn't know me, so I'm not even going to try. Now, I assume you're here to play cards, am I right? You kinda looked dressed to at least."

"Well yeah, but not if we can't trust you."

"Trust isn't an issue, Harry, trust me," Al added with a smile.

"'Trust...?'" Harry repeated in confusion. "What're you…gah! Whatever, just deal the cards and we'll go from there."

Al looked down at the table to see that it was still empty. "Remember, Harry, you must place a bet first," Al reminded him jovially.

"Too bloody happy," Harry grumbled as he tossed a few random chips onto the table. Richard and Sirius were more careful with their bets, but followed Harry's lead.

"So this is the chap you told us about?" Richard asked Harry as he watched Al carefully.

"Yeah, bit of an odd blighter if you ask me," Harry replied.

"I'm just gonna assume, based on how you said that that was an insult, Harry," Al said as he began to deal. "You know full well that I can't keep up with your English slang."

"You still haven't answered my question though," Harry accused. "How is it that you're here when nobody knows you even exist?"

Al looked up from the deck just as he finished dealing. "This is neither the time nor the place for that conversation, Harry. Someday in the future, you and I may have that conversation. But for now, just rest assured that nothing sinister is at play here. Now, I assume you're here to win some money at blackjack, am I right?" He did not wait for the others to respond. "Well then, I won't stand in the way of that. Your turn."

Harry looked down at his cards quickly, and carelessly called for another card, despite the fact that he was holding a total of seventeen. However, luck seemed to be on his side, as he was dealt the three of clubs, which brought his total to twenty.

"Bit of good luck there, eh Harry?" Richard observed as he waited for Harry to finish his turn.

"Maybe," Harry said contemplatively. He glanced up at Al, who was waiting for Harry expectantly, a small, placating smile upon his face.

"I'll stay," Harry said finally, despite the persistent itch at the back of his mind.

Richard and Sirius, each having bet five hundred dollars, received totals of nineteen and twenty, respectively, each after requesting additional cards.

When it came time for Al to play his own hand, he found the ten of hearts and the five of spades. Drawing one additional card, Al was treated to the eight of diamonds. "Dealer busts," he announced, paying Harry his bet of one thousand dollars, and Richard and Sirius their bets as well.

"Did I really bet that much?" Harry whispered to Sirius, who shrugged.

"Next time it might pay to pay attention," he suggested. "Otherwise, this'll be a really short game."

The next three hands continued in a similar fashion, with the exception of Harry being much more careful with what little money he had been allotted. However, despite this small change, the outcomes of the games remained the same, with all three players beating the dealer.

As the fifth hand finished with the same results as the previous four, Harry looked up from the table and glanced around the casino floor, his eyes searching for either Hermione or Remus. Initially, he did not spot either of them, but after nearly a minute of searching, Harry's eyes locked onto Hermione's periwinkle dress.

* * *

><p>Hermione passed by Remus, who was seemingly engaged by the slot machine before him, for the second time, subtly indicating to him that she had planted two of the bricks so far. She had placed the first brick in a trash can near the cashier cages, after making a show of fishing through her purse for something. The second and most recent brick had found its home in the trash receptacle just below the ramp to the elevators on the far end of the casino. After passing Remus for the second time, Hermione made her way toward the center of the casino, specifically toward the blackjack table at which Harry, Richard, and Sirius were seated.<p>

As per Remus's suggestion, Hermione was planning on dumping the final brick in the trash can directly behind the gambling trio, in an attempt to both startle them, as well as add credibility to their distraction.

Just as she approached the final can, she spotted one of the casino janitors pushing a cleaning cart around the floor. While normally she would not pay this any mind, Hermione watched as the short, elderly man emptied the trash out of one of the cans and replaced the liner. Instinctively, her eyes darted over to the two cans that she had used, and found that the first of those two was very close to the janitor.

Panicking, Hermione walked briskly over to that can, reaching it mere seconds before the janitor. Instantly, she reached her hand through the hole in the front of the can and began to rummage around in an attempt to find the brick she had planted there.

"Um…can I help you, miss?" the man asked kindly as he stopped next to Hermione.

She jerked her head up at his question, even though her arm remained buried in the can up to her shoulder.

"Erm…I think I threw away my wallet," she explained lamely.

"Your wallet?" the old man asked. "How'd you manage…" he trailed off as he scratched his head in puzzlement.

Thinking quickly, Hermione shrugged as well as she could with one arm deep in the trash can. "You don't even want to know," she said.

The janitor eyed her carefully as she continued to rummage around in the can in an attempt to keep up her rouse.

"Can't you just come back and empty this one later?" she pleaded. "I just need to find my wallet and everything'll be fine. If you came back in…" she looked at the watch on her free arm, "ten minutes or so, it should be fine for you to empty this one."

The janitor, Barty, continued to look at her oddly for a moment, before finally shrugging and moving back to his cleaning cart.

"Thanks," Hermione breathed exaggeratedly in relief. "Trust me, I won't be anywhere near this can in a few minutes, so don't worry about me."

Barty pushed his cart away, moving on to the next can and leaving Hermione to her own devices. As he walked away, Hermione withdrew her arm from the can and brushed it off, before heading back to her original destination of the receptacle near the blackjack table. As she walked, she kept looking back to make sure that Barty had not returned to the original can by the cashier cage. Luckily for her, that it appeared as though that was not the case.

After depositing the third brick in the can behind Harry, Richard and Sirius without them knowing, Hermione buckled her purse once more and slung it over her shoulder. Rather than walk past Remus for a third time, however, she peered over the slot machines and briefly made eye contact with him from across the casino to indicate that she was finished with her task.

Her job completed, Hermione moved to stand between Harry and Richard as she watched them play. While she did not recognize the elderly dealer on the other side of the table, she was far more interested in the young man who stood behind him, who appeared to be a pit boss in his mid twenties. He appeared to be closely watching the dealer as he continued to pass out cards to the three players.

Suddenly feeling devious, Hermione leaned down. "Good luck, Harry," she whispered in his ear. She then kissed him on the cheek, lingering slightly longer than she had in the common room at the end of term. Slowly, she stood back up and rested a hand on his shoulder, while refocusing her attention on the game. She did, however, glance over at her father, whose head was cocked toward Harry, a scowl plastered on his face. Harry, for his part, did not turn his head or acknowledge Richard in any way, with the exception of a light blush that crept up his neck and onto his face. Hermione smirked lightly at this.

"You've done well, Harry," Al said cryptically, causing Harry to wonder whether or not he was referring to the game.

"Erm…thanks," Harry replied tentatively, as he called for his fourth card only to find that it resulted in a bust for the first time.

"Oh, tough luck eh, Harry?" Al added with a mischievous grin.

"Yeah…" Harry responded. Up until that point, he had won every hand he had played, and as a result had been betting more and more with each hand. At that point, his original ten thousand dollar pot had grown to more than twenty-five thousand. He had been growing more and more suspicious that something odd was at play with the cards, but just as he was about to do something about it, the pit boss had come up to start watching Al deal.

In spite of Harry's recent loss, the pit boss, Sean, put a single hand on Al's shoulder to get his attention. The older man instantly looked up from the cards he had been shuffling after both Sirius and Richard had lost to his total of twenty.

At Al's inquisitive look, Sean placed a new, wrapped deck of cards on the table and confiscated the one that he had been dealing from. The entire transaction was handled with such aplomb that Harry did not question its occurrence, and instead assumed that it was normal.

After switching out the decks, Sean disappeared, leaving Al alone with the group once again.

Despite Harry's assumption that the switching of decks was normal, it appeared as though some others in the casino did not share that view. A handful of other patrons had gathered around the three, apparently following Hermione's lead of watching them play. The obvious switching of the decks only made the spectacle more interesting, as it indicated that the group was winning too much.

As Al began to deal once again, Harry glanced at the watch on his left arm. It was 7:11.

* * *

><p>Draco Malfoy flew out of his father's office for the second time that day, a single hair tucked inside his pocket. He had been tasked with returning to the top floor of The Merlin to retrieve a sample of his father's hair for use in a polyjuice potion, as well as to snatch his father's key to the inner vault buried deep below the resort. However, when he had arrived in the office, Draco had found it empty. Despite this, he quickly found a hair on the back of his father's chair before rushing out the door once more. He had to find Lucius.<p>

As soon as he stepped out of the door, one of the doors on the side of the hall swung open, and his father's co-chairman, Andrew Wallien strode out.

"He's not here," Wallien said simply upon seeing Draco.

"I saw that," Draco snapped. "Where'd he go?"

"Said he was going down to the vault. I was actually going down there to meet him now. Did you want me to let him know that you wanted to see him when he's done?"

Draco shook his head fervently. "That's alright," he said, masking the panic in his voice. "I'll just find him later."

Wallien shrugged. "You going down?" he asked as the pair approached the elevator.

Draco nodded as the older man pressed the button to open the door. _Bugger,_ he thought.

* * *

><p>Ellen closed the door of the ventilation room and stood against it, glancing at her watch to find that it was 7:12 as she crossed her arms. Flicking on the single overhead light, she continued to lean back heavily against the door as Minerva pulled a small vial from her pocket. The pair, after transfiguring their clothing into dealer uniforms, complete with nametags, had used the same method that Richard had used to get into the back of the house, minus the distraction involving a disgruntled guest. As Elle and Minerva were posing as middle-aged women named Becky and Gertrude, respectively, they had little trouble convincing an unsuspecting resort employee to let them through the door.<p>

"Gertrude," Minerva grumbled as she removed the grille on the front of the ventilation unit. "Why did I think that would be a good name?"

"You're the one who didn't want to come up with a name on your own," Ellen pointed out. "If I recall, you said that, with your luck, you'd come up with something completely cliché and obvious. So you let Sirius name you. I still don't know what you were thinking with that one."

"Nor do I, dear. Nor do I."

"Um… okay," Ellen replied. "Not one of your better ideas, if I do say so myself. But no matter, what time is it?" she added in anticipation.

"Time," Minerva answered as she glanced at her watch.

"As odd of an answer as that was, it somehow made sense," Ellen remarked sarcastically.

"I truly hope you didn't expect otherwise."

"Not really…"

"Excellent," Minerva said as she placed the vial at the base of the ventilation unit and moved to uncork it.

"How long's it going to take?"

"Six minutes. Or so Remus said. But since I trust his guesses more than Sirius's, I'm sure that's about right. It's… 7:13 now, and Remus said he'll wait three minutes before he starts to make his final pass. Remember, this stuff has to fully vaporize and circulate through the system before anyone starts to notice. That's why it'll take so long."

"So Remus'll start the detonation process in a few minutes so that the explosions happen after this stuff is in the air?"

"Right. But he is operating on the assumption that everything will move faster through the system, since we're in the central ventilation room. If we were, say, just trying to use a regular vent, then we wouldn't get nearly the same level of penetration. And… now." Ellen glanced at her watch to find that it had reached 7:14, just as Minerva pulled the stopper from the vial.

"Now the waiting begins."

End of Chapter 14

A/N: Thank you all for your positive response to chapter 13, as well as for being patient in between chapter postings. I have decided to post this chapter despite the fact that it was not proofread by my editor, pathseekerme. She, understandably, has things going on right now, so I was not going to pester her to finish editing this chapter. The fact that it was a nice short chapter helped matters, so if there are errors, they will be changed in the future. At the same time, bear in mind that this chapter was not read by anyone else before posting. While that should not have any effect on the overall quality of the chapter, it is something to remember. At the very least, the fact that it was not beta read makes me a bit more nervous about posting it blindly, since I don't know how anyone else will take it or what plot holes I may have missed. But all that negativity aside, thank you for reading and waiting, and I hope to continue making this story fun more than anything else.

I want to congratulate the following reviewers for correctly identifying the name of this chapter in their reviews: osc630, inVale, acam, and luvsanime02. Remember, if you want to see your name up in lights… or at least in this spot of the authors note in the next chapter, all you have to do is guess the name of the next chapter! The title of this chapter was chosen to reflect the concept of Harry, Sirius, and Richard dressing up to visit the casino at The Merlin.

This chapter is also part of a short story arc that I have mentioned in several previous authors notes. As a result, it is short and covers a very short period of time. It also ends with a cliffhanger for that reason as well. There is at least one little hint in this chapter regarding what is going to happen as the story progresses, but I don't want to spoil it here. The next chapter will be even shorter than this one, and picks up immediately after this chapter. The reason I made it so short was to add an extra chapter, in part to reach a specific number of chapters that plays into the entire Vegas theme. On that note, I also want to mention that I finished writing this story about two weeks ago, so all that remains is the editing.

**Chapter Title Hint: **This song, off of the _Hot Space_ album, was written by drummer Roger Taylor, and is one of six songs off of the album not to receive a music video. However, it was one of a handful of songs off of this album played in the famous 1982 concert at the National Bowl in Milton Keynes, England, and was actually the first song played off of _Hot Space_ at this concert. The album version of this song is also heavy on synthesizers, even if the live version was not. The fact that this song ties into the events of the next chapter strongly means that I am trying not to give such obvious hints, but if you think about what you expect will happen in chapter 15, there can only be one song that fits the bill.

Anyway, thank you all again for reading and sticking with me! I really appreciate all of the positive reviews, and I hope you will leave me another one or just guess at the title of the next chapter! I'll see you again soon with chapter 15!


	15. Action this Day

Chapter 15

**Action This Day**

_July 27, 2011_

_7:16 PM_

_The Merlin Resort and Casino_

Remus Lupin glanced at his watch for the twelfth time in the past two minutes. If all had gone according to plan, Ellen and Minerva would have released the gas into the resort's ventilation system at 7:14. Per his agreement with them, he would wait three minutes before beginning to add the final ingredient to the explosive concoction that Hermione had planted in three trash cans around the casino floor.

Looking over his shoulder once more, he could see Harry, Hermione, Richard, and Sirius surrounding a single blackjack table. While he watched, Richard pulled his jacked sleeve back slightly to peek at his watch, mimicking Remus's action from a moment before. Remus saw him emit a visible, albeit nervous sigh as he pulled his sleeve back into place and focused his attention back on the cards in front of him.

With a final sigh, Remus rose from his seat in front of an unused slot machine and began to walk toward the first trash can near the cashier cages. Just as he stood, the minute hand on his watch ticked over to 7:17, indicating that the time for action had arrived.

Less than ten seconds later, Remus arrived at the first trash receptacle before stopping and pulling a small glass vial from his pocket. Pulling the cap from the vial, Remus withdrew a small dropper from inside the container and filled it. He reached into the trash can and randomly dropped drops of the solution around inside in an attempt to find the brick, as only one drop was needed to begin the chemical reaction.

Satisfied that he had begun the reaction at that can, Remus replaced the stopper on the vial before he made his way to the third trash can, located near the blackjack table that the others were sitting at. The fact that it was the next closest can influenced his decision to do so, as well as the fact that he needed to communicate that he was indeed doing his job.

Just seconds after his watch struck 7:18, Remus stealthily dropped the mixture into the can before quickly placing the vial back in his pocket. As soon as he had done this, he targeted the final can and began to walk in that direction, by way of the blackjack table. Passing by Sirius, he purposefully brushed against his back, pushing him forward slightly.

"Hey!" Sirius shouted. "What? You trying to cop a feel or something ya berk?" He angrily turned back to the table as Remus slinked off, knowing full well that Sirius's comment was planned. "Ugh, you really gotta hate people sometimes," Sirius added as Remus left.

After quickly adding the final ingredient to the gel in the last trash can, Remus returned to the slot machine that he had previously occupied, inserted a few bills, and began to play. With one final look at his watch, he found out that the time was now 7:19.

* * *

><p>Harry looked up from his watch just as Al finished dealing the latest hand. Flipping his cards over, Harry was rewarded with a blackjack, winning him an extra fifty percent on top of his original bet. Sirius and Richard, oddly, received the same hands, but with different suits.<p>

"Hmp," Harry grunted as he saw this. The cards had definitely been coming up in the players' favor that night, and he was beginning to suspect that something was amiss. However, before he could ponder the possibility any further, Al pushed the winnings his way.

"What's that smell?" Richard asked suddenly, sniffing audibly.

Realizing that it was time Harry, too, began to sniff loudly as well. "Yeah, I smell it too."

"It almost smells like… gas," Sirius piped in.

"Here?" Richard balked. "I would've thought they'd have safety procedures in place for something like that. I mean, with all of the smoking and lighting up that goes on in a place like this, you'd think that'd be the case."

Harry glanced behind him quickly to see that the few others who were watching them play were also sniffing, trying to pick out what the smell was.

"You know, it really does smell like gas," Harry opined. "That can't be safe, can it?" he asked Al for show.

"I'm actually not sure, Harry," Al replied with a subtle wink. "I can't say I ever remember there being a gas leak here before, so it might definitely be serious."

"Well that doesn't tell us much, does it?" Harry retorted.

"Excuse me!" Sirius yelled, waving his hand in the air. "Sir! Excuse me!" The pit boss, who had previously monitored Al's dealing, walked over apprehensively to see what Sirius wanted.

"Umm… yes, sir?" Sean asked cautiously.

"You do smell that, don't you?" Sirius demanded.

"Smell what?"

"That horrid smell! It smells like gas in here!"

Sean sniffed audibly, mimicking the behavior of the others. After a brief moment of this, he stopped and furrowed his brow in thought.

"So?" Sirius asked.

"I'll admit that it does smell a bit odd," Sean admitted.

"'A bit odd?'" Sirius cried. "Come on! It smells like gas and you know it! Now what does that mean? Are we all in danger of dying in some big fireball because of all of the smoking going on in here?"

"I…" Sean stammered, "I… don't know."

"Well then find out!" Sirius commanded. "I don't want to sit here worrying about my own safety, and I don't think these good people," he gestured to those standing behind him, "do either."

Sean nodded nervously. "I'm sure everything is just fine. But lemme find out what's going on. Give me a minute and I'll be right back." He rushed away, leaving the pit unattended.

"Stupid kid doesn't know what he's doing," Sirius grumbled.

"He just needs a chance to learn," Harry countered. "I'm sure he's trying, but this is the first time he's had to deal with something like this."

"Well, if he's in that kind of position, he should know what's going on and how to handle it. And if I'm honest, he wasn't very reassuring, to say the least. I don't feel any safer now than I did before."

"I'll give you that," Harry agreed as Al looked around in nervousness before turning back to the cards.

"Might as well keep playing then, right?" he asked.

Harry shrugged, so Al began to deal once again.

Suddenly, a deafening explosion racked the casino. Harry spun on his stool as the lid of the trash can near the cashier cage shot up to the ceiling. A loud bang reverberated through the casino as the lid struck the ceiling and bounced off, narrowly missing an occupied slot machine.

Instantly, flames shot out of the can and began to lick the nearby wall, slowly taking hold and beginning to consume the wood paneling.

"What the hell?" Richard bellowed, as a few isolated screams pierced the air. He stood up quickly and shoved the stool aside, throwing it to the ground in his haste.

As soon as he stood, the can directly behind the blackjack table exploded as well. Richard dove to the floor, instantly followed by Harry, Sirius, and Hermione.

"I knew it!" Sirius shouted as the casino sprinklers kicked on. "This place is a death trap with the gas!"

As the sprinklers soaked the occupants of the casino, the guests began to move toward the exit. However, as they did so, the third and final trash can exploded in a shower of metal. Those rushing past it were forced to dive for cover to avoid the flying shrapnel.

"Let's get out of here!" Richard declared loudly, as others appeared to reach the same conclusion. He leapt to his feet, followed by the other three.

As he got up, Harry looked behind himself at the soaked blackjack table only to find that it was empty.

"Where'd Al go?" he asked.

Sirius and Richard whirled around only to find that Al was, indeed, missing.

"What the…?" Richard muttered.

"That slimy bugger," Sirius added. "Something's just not right with that fellow."

"We don't have time for this!" Hermione interrupted, maintaining the rouse. "We've gotta get out of here before the whole place blows!" She grabbed Harry's hand and dragged him away from the blackjack table toward the lobby and exit.

"Wait! The chips!" Harry cried as he tried to pull away from Hermione.

"Leave the sodding chips! They're not important!"

"But!" he protested as she pulled him away.

However, instead of dragging him out the door, Hermione steered them off to the side of the casino, out of the way of the mass exodus that was making its way to safety.

"Ready?" she asked as they stopped moving.

"Oh, you mean that was all part of the act?" he countered, feigning innocence.

"Oh, knock it off. You know I was acting. So, how'd I do?"

"Well… since you're fishing for compliments…" he began, earning a playful slap from Hermione. "You did great," he finished. "But we're not done yet; we've still got work to do."

"I know that! Hold on a second." As Harry stood next to the wall near the same door that Richard, Ellen, and Minerva had used during their respective incursions, Hermione put her arm on Harry's shoulder and leaned down to take off her shoes.

"What're you doing?" he asked curiously, not at all bothered by their position.

Hermione didn't reply as she removed her second shoe before placing them both in her purse. She then pulled out a pair of plain white trainers laced with pink before she knelt down in front of Harry and began to put them on. Despite her prone position, Harry did not move or shy away.

"I like that: a woman who doesn't mind getting down and dirty," he flirted, referring to the change of her shoes.

"Really?" she asked as she stood, cocking a single eyebrow at him. He shrugged in response, earning a small giggle from Hermione. "I'll try not to take that the wrong way then, Harry."

"You can take it however you want," he replied. "Out of a sense of self-preservation, I'll stay quiet on the matter."

"Then I'll take your silence as confirmation," she retorted. Hermione reached into her large purse once more and pulled out a familiar piece of shimmering cloth. "Ready?"

Harry glanced down at his watch to see that it was now 7:22. Nodding to Hermione, he took his invisibility cloak from her under the cover of the crowd around them.

Almost on cue, the door opened, and Minerva and Ellen emerged onto the casino floor. Ellen nodded appreciatively as she looked at the chaos they had caused.

"Not bad," she commented quietly. "Good luck you two," she added to Harry and Hermione, the latter of which stuck her foot in the door to prop it open.

"Malfoy better have held up his end of the bargain," Harry grumbled.

"I'm sure he will have," Minerva assured him.

"I hope you're right."

With a final nod to Harry and Hermione, Ellen and Minerva left to join Richard outside of the casino, as Sirius and Remus had gone their own way to wait outside for word from Draco on Pettigrew's location.

"Let's go," Harry said, receiving a nod from Hermione. He moved close to her and, in one swift motion, swept the cloak over them. Now invisible to the outside world, Harry and Hermione stepped through the door to complete their mission.

End of Chapter 15

A/N: Thank you all for the positive response to chapter 14, and for continuing to read this story. As I had warned before, this is a very short chapter, but also serves as the low point of the story with regards to chapter length. Chapters from now on will continue to increase in length. Also, for the most part, a small suspension of disbelief was required during the reading of this chapter, especially with regards to the degree of successfulness of the panic. However, this is fiction, so some suspension of disbelief is required. Since I refuse to write a note longer than the chapter itself, let me keep this short.

Congratulations to the following members who correctly guessed the title of this chapter: Ibris, luvsanime02, acam, osc630, and Witty Eagle Proud Ravenclaw. Thank you all for participating and I hope others will hazard a guess as to the title of the next chapter!

**Chapter Title Hint:** This song, released in 1989, ties perfectly into the last action that Harry took in this chapter. If you think about what Harry did at the very end of this chapter, then you should be able to guess the title of chapter 16. But if that is not enough, the music video of this song featured Freddie Mercury wearing odd eyewear.

Thank you all again for reading and reviewing, and I hope you continue to enjoy the story and leave such positive reviews. I'll see you again soon with chapter 16!


	16. The Invisible Man

Chapter 16

**The Invisible Man**

_July 27, 2011_

_7:23 PM_

_The Merlin Resort and Casino_

The door closed behind Harry and Hermione as, for the first time, they stepped into the long, white, sloping hallway that had become so familiar to Richard, Ellen, and Minerva. Pressed up against each other, the pair was forced to shuffle their way along in an attempt to maintain the cover that the cloak provided. The corridor was filled with various resort staff that were running from room to room, engaged in various activities that the pair could only assume pertained to the current panic outside.

After several minutes of scooting down the ramp, Harry and Hermione reached the junction at the end of the hall. Turning the corner to approach the security office, Harry and Hermione were struck by the fact that, despite the general hustle and bustle behind the scenes, there did not appear to be anyone emerging from the office itself.

However, just as they neared their target, a random resort employee burst out of one of the auxiliary doors, nearly bowling over the pair. Harry instantly grabbed Hermione and pulled her out of the way which, in the process, causing the two to crash into the nearby wall.

Breathing heavily, Harry clutched Hermione close to his chest as the pair breathed a silent sigh of relief that they had not been found out. For a long moment, Harry held her there, despite the fact that the hallway was now empty. However, Harry had not realized that, as his eyes were focused solely on Hermione, in an attempt to gauge her reaction.

"I don't see anyone coming out of the office," she whispered, making no attempt to break free.

Harry did not look up to confirm her statement, as he maintained eye contact. "We just got here," he replied. "Just wait for it. I'm sure there'll be someone coming out soon."

"Right…" Hermione trailed off. "And until then?"

But before Harry could answer, the door to the security office opened, and a lone security guard rushed out, clutching a piece of paper in one hand.

"Now!" Harry hissed.

The pair bolted toward the door, covering the two meter distance in short order. They were just barely able to slip inside as the door slowly closed, locking audibly behind them.

Once inside, the pair got their first look at the security office and what they were up against. The room itself was a moderately large circular room with one flat wall on the far end. The diameter of the room was approximately fifteen meters, and slate gray walls that extended to about six meters in height, giving a sense of scale and grandeur to the space. However, the focal point of the room was the large bank of television screens that took up the entire wall opposite the entry door. The center of the wall was occupied by a massive screen that, in Hermione's experience, was only dwarfed by a movie theater screen. While neither teen was in a position to estimate its size exactly, Hermione had to guess that it exceeded one hundred inches in size, when measured diagonally. Surrounding this central screen were roughly two dozen smaller screens, which were each of a respectable size. While the center screen showed the viewpoint from a single camera, each of the supplementary screens represented a different camera, allowing the security staff to monitor many different areas at once.

The floor of the room sloped sharply downward toward the wall of displays, with two semi-circular banks of security monitoring stations matching the curvature of the back wall. These two banks were arranged concentrically, with the front at a lower level than the back bank. A single step separated the two levels from each other, as well as from a lower third level, which was simply a large empty space between the front station and the screens.

Aside from the door that they had just entered through, Harry and Hermione found that the back wall of the room was occupied by a lone metal book shelf and a large bank of servers. These, Hermione assumed but did not share with Harry out of fear of making noise, were to store security camera recordings and allow for easy recall. Just past the servers was a lone, drab gray door whose top half was filled by a large pane of reinforced glass. The placard next to the door indicated that it led to the security locker room.

Despite the facilities for a large contingent of security personnel, Harry and Hermione found the office to be largely deserted, with the exception of two workers who were seated next to each other at the back console.

As the two teens watched, the central screen switched perspectives several times, as the two employees watched the uncontrolled evacuation of the casino. From what Harry and Hermione could tell, there were very few people left in the casino, as the flow seemed to be lessening.

However, Hermione's attention was soon drawn away by something far more troubling.

In the top left corner of the wall, she could see that one of the smaller screens was replaying one of the explosions from earlier. As soon as the explosion would occur, the video would rewind for a few moments before playing again. While it appeared as though neither of the employees was paying attention to this screen, the fact that the explosion was being investigated was worrisome.

Still watching the screen, Hermione nudged Harry to get his attention and then nodded slightly toward the screen. As he watched, his eyes went wide as he, too, recognized the implications. He glanced over to Hermione, whose face now bore a wicked grin. Harry scowled in confusion until he looked down to see Hermione pull a small glass vessel from her purse. She then wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him away from the door and toward the book shelf. As soon as they stopped, Harry noticed that the shelf was occupied by various policy manuals and documentation binders.

Releasing her hold on Harry, who was faced with a sudden wave of disappointment, Hermione stealthily reached out from underneath the cloak. She placed the vial behind one of the books, flush against the wall, and removed the stopper.

As soon as Hermione let go of the vial, she wrapped her arms around Harry's waist one more and pulled him away from the shelf and to the other side of the room near the locker room door. A small grin ghosted across Harry's face as she did so as he relished in the feeling.

"How long can you hold your breath?" Hermione whispered.

"Huh?" he grunted dazedly, still focused on their position.

"Your breath. How long can you hold it? Because it's about to get nasty in here."

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but Hermione instantly put her finger against his lips to keep him quiet.

"What the hell's that smell?" one of the workers asked gruffly.

"Smells like gas again," the other, older, employee replied as thought it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Yeah, but it's worse this time. All we had to do was kick on the fan before. Did you turn it off?"

"Nah man," the first worker, a younger, athletic type, answered. "It's still on."

"It's still on? Then what the hell's going on?"

"There better not be a leak in here too. There'd have to be something really wrong for us to have a leak too. I mean, I don't even know if we have a gas main running through here."

The second worker, whose name neither Harry nor Hermione could see, chuckled at this. "Have you ever even looked at the plans for this place?" He didn't wait for a response. "I didn't think so. Just because we might not be the end of the line for the gas, doesn't mean there isn't a main running through the ceiling."

"That's all well and good. But what if something blows up in here then? I know I'm not gonna stick around to find out!" He quickly rose from his seat and made his way toward the door, leaving his belongings at his station. "You might want to let Baldrek know about it too," he added as he wrenched the door open and left the room.

"Damned kids," the remaining employee grumbled as he rose from his seat and pushed the chair into the console. "Can't ever do anything for themselves." He strode out of the office, letting the door slam behind himself.

Left alone with Hermione in the security office, Harry whipped the cloak off and tossed it to the side.

"Wow, that is really bad," he commented, inhaling deeply after having held his breath for several long sessions over the past few moments.

"That's right! I forgot you weren't in the room when we were brewing it. Yeah, it can be a bit… strong."

"A bit strong? It smells like arse!" Hermione giggled at his crudeness as she put the stopper back in the vial. "And I'm sorry for the language, but that's about as accurate as I can be!"

"Well, I can't say you're wrong…"

"Since when have I ever been wrong?"

"Where do you want me to start?" Hermione joked. "For one, you can't always read people very well…" she trailed off, shooting Harry a significant look.

"Well, I'll try to change that soon," Harry muttered. "But let me be right about this: we need to get rid of the evidence. We can't let there be any record of us being here. So the first thing that needs to go is the video. If they can see the rubbish bins exploding, then they'll be able to see you and Remus planting the explosives there."

"I'll take care of that," Hermione reassured him. "You've got your own business to worry about."

"I'll need you to open the vault too," Harry reminded her. "Daltrey said it can only be opened from here."

"I know. And I'll take care of that too; don't you worry about it. You can trust me, remember?"

"I know I can," he said softly. "But are you sure you'll be alright in here by yourself. I mean, anyone can just walk in here and catch you."

"I'll be fine, Harry."

"I think you should keep the cloak just in case, that way you can hide if someone does come back."

Instead of answering, Hermione bent over slightly and reached up into her dress with one arm. Harry's eyes widened at the sight as he watched her rummage around slightly under her dress. A moment later, she withdrew her hand, holding her wand. Seeing this, Harry blushed deeply, causing Hermione to giggle once again.

"You know, I never took you for a giggler," he remarked.

Hermione shrugged. "Sometimes it just takes the right thing… or the right person to bring out a completely different side of someone. But you know full well I can take care of myself, Harry. You've seen me hold my own in a duel; I was there to help with the DA for Merlin's sake!"

"You're right, like usual. I just wouldn't feel right if something happened to you while I was gone."

"And _I_ wouldn't feel right if something happened to you because you left the cloak behind in some foolhardy attempt at being the big, brave man. Take the cloak, Harry. There're still cameras out there, so if you don't take the cloak, they'll see you."

Harry had to admit that she had a point. "Fine," he conceded begrudgingly.

"But," she added, "it wouldn't do for you to get caught looking like that." She eyed him closely, her eyes roving up and down his body.

"I know, there's plenty to see," he teased.

"Shut up, you prat!" Hermione laughed. "I was just thinking that you should change into something a bit more… appropriate."

"With you in here?" Harry balked. "Why, Hermione! I never thought you'd be so forward!"

She rolled her eyes, but smiled nonetheless. "Not in here! In the locker room over there! I'm sure there's some kind of unused uniform or something in there that'll help you blend in a bit better if you lost the cloak or something."

"Have I ever lost the cloak?"

"No, but there's a first time for everything. Better to be safe than sorry."

"Fine," he griped as he trudged toward the door. Finding it unlocked, he threw it opened and disappeared through the threshold. Less than two minutes later, he emerged once again, this time clad in the traditional blue tunic and black trousers of the security personnel. "It's a bit big."

"Nonsense!" Hermione barked. She marched over to him and began to adjust the tunic, focusing on the arms and waist, where it bunched up. However, despite her ministrations, the uniform did not seem to fit any better. "Well… maybe it is a tad bit big on you. But you'll grow into it!" she added happily.

"Grow into it? How long do you expect me to wear this thing for?"

"That's up to you. Personally, I thought we were only going to be down here for a few minutes. But based on how much you seem to want to talk, there'll be plenty of time for you to grow into those clothes." If Harry had not seen the smile on her face, he might have taken her words seriously. But the grin she bore indicated that she was simply joking with him.

With that issue settled, Hermione grabbed the invisibility cloak and handed it to Harry. "Be careful, Harry," she said softly. "Remember, you're just there to get in and out. Don't waste any time. Get the horcrux and get out."

"And the money," he reminded her. "But I've got Malfoy to help with that…"

"Oh, bugger. I forgot about that! Don't antagonize him, Harry," she warned. "He's agreed to help us at least, so I wouldn't do anything to jeopardize that. You focus on the horcrux and let him worry about the money. It was his idea after all."

"Right," Harry agreed.

Hermione threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. "Oh! Good luck, Harry!" she whispered in his ear.

"I don't need luck" he said proudly. "But I appreciate that… and your words of luck too," he added slyly, referring to the hug. He held the hug for an extra moment before releasing his best friend and stepping away. "If I'm not back in five minutes, unlock the vault. That'll be your cue." Hermione nodded in confirmation. "I'll see you soon, alright?"

Cloak in hand, Harry moved toward the door. In one practiced motion, he swept the cloak over his head and vanished from sight.

"Wait!" Hermione cried as she rushed over to the nearby console. "Take this too!" She handed him the keycard that had been left behind by the younger of the two workers from before. It, along with the rest of his belongings, had been forgotten in his haste to leave the room. "You know, for when you need to come back in?"

Harry nodded, despite the fact that Hermione could not see him. "I'll be back soon."

He opened the door and stepped out into the corridor, before closing the door softly behind himself. Looking down the hallway to his right, Harry found that it was, at least for the moment empty. Quickly turning around to glance behind him, Harry saw Draco walking rapidly toward him.

"Potter!" Draco hissed quietly at the emptiness. "I know you're there! I saw that door open and close with nobody coming through!"

As tempted as Harry was to remain silent and prove him wrong, he knew that this was not the time for such childishness. "What?" he whispered angrily.

"You can't go down there! They're down there now!"

Harry jerked back slightly in surprise. He reached out with the cloak and grabbed Draco by the shirt before sliding the keycard and dragging the blonde into the security office. As soon as the door closed, Harry whipped off the cloak and glared at the youngest Malfoy.

"What do you mean, 'they're down there now?'" Harry growled.

"That's exactly what I mean! I couldn't even get the key since father had already taken the Dark Lord down to the vault! I did get a hair from father's office for the polyjuice potion, but that's about it, since the office was empty and I couldn't find them anywhere! I couldn't even find out where Pettigrew was!"

"Dammit!" Harry cursed. "Are you absolutely sure that they're down in the vault right now?"

"Well where else could they be, Potter? My father's spent most of the time since I arrived in his office, so the fact that he's not there now is kind suspicious, don't you think? Then there's the fact that his partner in crime told me he was down there! What other conclusion would you expect me to come up with? He's down in the vault with the Dark Lord!"

"But wouldn't our little distraction have forced them to come out?" Harry asked, trying desperately to save some shred of the plan.

"Not if they don't know about it!" Draco argued. "I'm sure they're pretty insulated down there. Besides, this is the Dark Lord we're talking about. He doesn't let anything or anyone get in the way of him completing his plan. He'd make sure everything kept moving even if the world itself was ending."

"He does have a point, Harry," Hermione interjected.

"Then why are you just telling us this now?" Harry demanded. "You could have let us know before we went through all of the trouble of doing everything!"

"Hey!" Draco exclaimed, throwing up his hands. "I only just found out about it! Besides, I've only known about your little mission for a few hours, so you can't exactly blame me for this! I did my best to hold up my end of the bargain, but it didn't work out. Time just wasn't on our side!"

"What do you think?" Harry asked Hermione, ignoring Draco. "Should we go for it and actually try and finish what we started?"

"Well, that's up to you," she replied. "But if they are actually down there, then it's suicide to even try to do anything tonight. So the question is, do we risk it and hope that they aren't actually down there, or do we play it safe and not go for it? We also have to bear in mind the fact that we don't have much time. I'm sure that everyone is slowly realizing that there was no gas leak by now, so they'll be coming back in here before long. So we can't just sit here and wait for the vault to be empty; we have to make a decision now. Personally, I wouldn't risk it, but that's up to you. I'll support whatever decision you make."

Harry looked at her carefully as he pondered her words. While it was true that, if they decided to abandon the entire endeavor now, they would never have another chance to try again, there was also the other side of the coin to consider. If they kept going, and Voldemort and Lucius were in the vault, along with an unknown number of associates, then they would be putting their lives on the line. Weighing these two alternatives, along with Hermione's advice, Harry came to a conclusion.

"Get ready to go," he said firmly, yet sadly. "We're leaving."

Hermione nodded in acceptance while Draco's face remained grim.

"How're you coming on deleting the video?" Harry asked Hermione.

"I haven't even been able to start yet," she replied. "You weren't gone for long, so I didn't even get over to the controls to take a look."

"Well, I'm gonna assume that the videos are stored there," he said, nodding toward the bank of servers.

"I think so," Hermione confirmed.

"Great." In one swift motion, Harry pulled out his wand and trained it on the servers. "Reducto!"

A beam of light lashed out from his wand and slammed into the servers, annihilating them in a shower of sparks and plastic.

"Eep!" Hermione shrieked, shielding her face from the explosion.

Instantly, the lights in the room dimmed and switched to a dark shade of blue. At the same time, a small, tinny alarm began to echo through the chamber as a blue border began to flash around all of the television screens.

"What're you doing, Potter?" Draco demanded.

"Destroying the evidence! You two," he added, "start scourgifying everything in the room to get rid of any fingerprints."

"Do you know if that'll work?" Hermione asked as she withdrew her wand.

"I dunno. Will it?" he asked her in reply.

"It might," she answered thoughtfully. "But I'm not sure. The magical world doesn't do much with fingerprints, so there isn't much documentation on the subject, at least in the Hogwarts library."

"And you would know, right?" Draco muttered.

"Enough you two! Let's just get this done and get out of here before we get caught!"

Hermione nodded dutifully as she set to work, followed, surprisingly, by Draco.

"I don't even know why I'm doing this," he grumbled as he pulled out his wand. "I wasn't the one who set off the alarms."

Less than a minute later, the trio emerged from the office and into the deserted hallway. Similar to the security office, the corridor was bathed in a pale blue glow, which served as the only source of illumination.

"They sure take unauthorized magic seriously," Harry observed. "Come on, let's go!"

He set off in a jog down the hall, rounding the corner to the exit with a skid. As he slid, he glanced behind himself to see that Draco and Hermione were following closely, and he gave a silent thanks that Hermione had chosen to change her shoes earlier. Harry could only imagine the complications that could have been created had she worn her other shoes.

An instant later, the three burst through the door and onto the casino floor, only to find it largely deserted. Sparing no time to look around, Harry, Hermione, and Draco walked briskly to the lobby and out the front door of the resort, only to find that the entire entry pavilion had been cordoned off by the local authorities. Various uniformed personnel were milling about near the fountain as well as near the parked fire engines.

Darting to the side, Harry led the others through the faux grass and under the police tape before they were seen. And it was not a moment too soon, as the instant they crossed the police line, the bomb squad van pulled up and drove down the concrete path to the fountain.

"Damn," Draco muttered as he looked back, "you lot caused all that?"

"We didn't really think about that part," Harry admitted as they kept walking. "We were more interested in how the plan would work for us, not what other problems it would cause."

"You know that place is gonna be crawling with people now," Draco pointed out. "There's no way you're gonna get back there anytime soon."

"Just shut up Malfoy and keep walking. You aren't helping matters any."

"Don't get so touchy, Potter. It was your timing that was the problem here, not me. So don't go blaming me for something that wasn't my fault!"

"Boys!" Hermione warned familiarly. "Not now. Wait until we get back to the hotel before you start bickering!"

"Wait a second!" Harry cried suddenly. "Sirius and Remus! They're still waiting for us back at The Merlin! They don't know that we've left already, since they're waiting for Malfoy here to let them know where Peter's at!"

"They can take care of themselves," Draco opined.

"They might've gone back to the room," Hermione offered, "especially after seeing this kind of response."

"Nah," Harry disagreed. "Not Sirius. If there's one thing that could make him disregard his own safety, it would be the chance to catch Pettigrew. I'm sure they're still there."

He turned and began to head back to The Merlin, using the sidewalk rather than walking through the landscaping.

"At the very least we should just look like regular pedestrians who are trying to see what's going on," he rationalized.

"Not dressed like that we won't," Draco pointed out, subtly nodding at Harry's attire.

Harry looked down to see that he was, indeed, still dressed as a security guard at The Merlin.

"Hold on a second, Harry," Hermione said as she pulled out her wand. She glanced around to see if anyone was watching before she proceeded to transfigure the uniform into a simple pair of khaki shorts and white tee. "Nobody'll notice anyone with all the commotion," she explained.

"But you still look a bit out of place," Harry said, referring to her dress.

Hermione shrugged. "Yeah, but I don't really want to transfigure this thing," she explained. "I kinda like it, especially the color."

Harry gave her a small smile. "Yeah, I like the color too," he replied quietly, making eye contact with her.

Draco rolled his eyes. "If you two are quite done flirting around with each other?"

Harry and Hermione quickly broke eye contact at his words, both blushing slightly.

"Awww…" Draco continued, "you two are embarrassed. How cute… and disgusting," he added nastily. "Now, can we just get done with this and get away from here before somebody sees me associating with you two?"

Harry shot Draco a glare but said nothing as he continued to lead the way back to The Merlin, which found itself surrounded by a throng of onlookers. Harry pushed through the crowd, searching for either Sirius or Remus. However, he found that, as he got closer to the resort, the crowd grew thicker, as more and more onlookers were attempting to see what was causing such a commotion. This made his task of weaving through the crowd more difficult.

After several minutes of shoving and shuffling, Harry, Hermione, and Draco finally pushed their way to the front of the crowd, and were instantly pressed against the yellow police tape.

"Not much room up here, is there?" Draco asked sarcastically.

But Harry wasn't paying attention to his remark, as he was scanning the crowd for the Marauders.

"There they are!" Hermione exclaimed, pointing farther down the police line.

Harry eyes traced her aim only to find that, sure enough, Sirius and Remus were plastered against the police line in a similar fashion to the trio.

"Come on!" Harry shouted amidst the constant murmur that rose from the throng. Facing the resort, he scooted along the tape toward Sirius and Remus. Though progress was slow due to the overall thickness of the crowd, Harry soon found himself next to the two former pranksters.

"How'd you guys find a spot so close to the front?" Harry asked from beside them, not making eye contact.

"Harry!" Sirius shouted. "What're you doing here? How'd it go?"

Harry didn't answer immediately, which caused Hermione to leap to his rescue. "We'll talk about that later," she said. "Right now, we've gotta get back to the hotel."

"But what about Malfoy?" Sirius asked. "We're waiting for him to let us know where Pettigrew's at."

"I'm here," Draco raised his hand. "And well… like Granger said, we'll talk about that later. Let's just get out of here before somebody sees me."

"I think a lot of people have seen you, Draco," Remus pointed out.

"You know what I meant," Draco grunted. He turned and began to push his way through the crowd, followed closely by the others. A moment later, when they had emerged, Draco turned around to look back at the mob. "There has to be at least a hundred people there," he said.

"Probably more like two hundred," Remus corrected. "Trust me, we were there when it all started. That's how we were able to stay near the front. I dunno why it's so fascinating, but I guess it just is."

"Probably for the same reason people slow down on the motorway to look at an overturned caravan or something," Hermione offered. "We just can't help but be interested in some kind of disaster."

"Too true, Hermione," Remus agreed. "Too true."

The trip back to the MGM and the Signature was made in silence, as both Sirius and Remus noticed the grim look on Harry's face. Neither one of them wanted to press the issue, and assumed, based on Hermione and Draco's earlier statements, that they would find out what happened sooner or later.

Ten minutes later, the group stepped off of the elevator on the eighth floor of the first tower of the Signature. Leading the way, Harry trudged down the hall toward Minerva's room, which had unofficially been designated as their base of operations.

With heavy trepidation, Harry knocked on the door and stepped back, waiting for it to be opened. A moment later, the door opened, and a head popped out.

"What happened?"

End of Chapter 16

A/N: Thank you all for the positive reviews for chapter 15! I was actually going to post this at midnight, making this chapter posted on September 6, but I recently rediscovered something that forced me to post today. Today, September 5, 2011, is the 65th birthday of Freddie Mercury. Considering the fact that all of the chapter titles in this series are based on Queen songs, I only thought it fitting to post a chapter on the birthday of the person I consider to be the greatest male singer of the 20th century. So let's all wish Freddie a happy birthday… maybe through a review!

However, due to the quick posting, this chapter was not _completely_ vetted. That is not to say that there are any major errors, but I do like to review just to make sure. But that aside, there is not actually much that I want to talk about in this note, so let's get down to business, shall we?

Congratulations go out to the following reviewers who correctly guessed the title of this chapter: osc630, DragonShenron, Chelle-Marie Mcgonagle, acam, Ibris, and luvsanime02. Well done all of you! If you want to see your name here, just guess about the next chapter title!

**Chapter Title Hint:** So it looks like the plan has gone awry and has been thrown completely out the window. Time for the most famous bass line in modern music history then, eh?

So thank you all once again for reading this story and continuing to give me your time. Please leave a review or two… or three, if only to wish the great Freddie a happy birthday. But you can also comment on the story as well. I know that this chapter sort of threw everything out the window, but there is a method to my madness, trust me. Like some of you said in your reviews, the plan as it was could only go badly. Now we see that, for reasons completely out of anyone's control, they have. What's next for our intrepid thieves? Find out in the next chapter, which I should post soon!


	17. Another One Bites the Dust

Chapter 17

**Another One Bites the Dust**

_July 27, 2011_

_8:45 PM_

_The Signature at MGM Grand, Room 816_

"What happened?" Richard asked, as he poked his head out of the door. He glanced around to see Harry, accompanied by Hermione, Draco, Sirius, and Remus. He had not been expecting to see the latter two for quite some time in anticipation of their pursuit of Peter Pettigrew so their presence was certainly confusing.

Seeing the disappointed look on Harry's face, Richard opened the door wider and stepped aside, letting the newcomers enter the room.

"You lot are back early," Ellen observed as they entered. "Everything go alright?"

"Not exactly," Harry said, slumping into the empty sofa opposite Ellen's occupied armchair. Hermione, sensing his mood, sat down next to him. Minerva and Severus were also in the room.

"What happened?" Richard repeated as he sat on the arm of his wife's chair.

"Everything went swimmingly at first," Harry began, "you saw that." He received curt nods from around the room with the exception of Draco. "Well, there was that surprise explosion behind us but that's another matter. Anyway, we managed to get into the security office and get everyone out so that we were alone in there. I left the office to meet up with Malfoy only to find him just outside the door. He told me that Voldemort and Lucius were already down in the vault sealing it up!"

"That quickly?" Ellen asked. "I thought they were gonna wait?"

"Apparently they did… just not as long as we had hoped," Harry replied. "Either way I had to call it off. It would have been too dangerous to go down there only to find Voldemort and his pet Death Eaters waiting for me."

"It would have been suicide," Ellen agreed.

"So where does this leave us?" Richard asked, staring at Harry directly. Just as he finished, a knock at the door summoned him, and Richard opened the door to allow Severus into the room before focusing his attention back on Harry.

Under Richard's intense gaze Harry cowered slightly, taking all of the blame upon himself. "Between a rock and a hard place."

"I apologize for my tardiness," Snape interrupted, "but the Dark Lord insisted on my presence in the vault during the sealing. He apparently believed my services would be necessary with a blood-replenishing potion, as the vault is now sealed with his blood, much of which was required for the ritual."

"And there was no other way to finish it up?" Richard pressed accusingly.

"No," a voice interrupted. Every head in the room turned to find the source of the voice: Draco. "I hate to say it, but Potter made the right choice. Granted, now there's really no way to get to the horcrux because, as Severus said, and from what I learned from father, the Dark Lord has keyed himself into blood wards. But what other option was there? It's not worth dying for something like that… even if it is Potter here who would have been doing the dying."

"Wow thanks, Malfoy," Harry grumbled sarcastically. "I never knew you cared so much."

"What? I'm just telling the truth. I can't tell you I'd shed a tear if something were to happen to you; you just happen to be on my side this one time."

"Draco," Snape warned, "that's enough. As much as you might dislike Potter here, and there are many good reasons to do so, he did show a rare modicum of common sense and wisdom. And I cannot criticize him for that, despite my better judgment." He nodded curtly at Harry, who looked at him strangely.

"So it's over now then?" Sirius asked. "We've lost?"

"Looks like it," Richard agreed. "By now they'll have that place locked up tight. There'll be no way in or out. And even if we could get in we wouldn't even be able to get into the vault now… or at least, that's what I understand. You know I'm not too good with this magical hoop-de-doo."

"Unless we knew the exact configuration of the wards," Remus began, "there'd be no way in. I mean, all we know is that they're blood wards. Or, at least, that's what Severus said. But that doesn't mean anything since there're a few different kinds of blood wards. Not to mention the fact that it's now keyed into You-Know-Who's blood."

"Then we're done," Richard concluded. "I mean, it sounds like there's no way out of this mess now. I just find it hard to believe that, after all the work we put into this, that we giving up so easily and are just going to tuck our tail between our legs and go home! I just… it's a load of tripe! That's what it is!"

As soon as he finished speaking, Harry bolted from his seat and rushed out the door.

"Richard!" Ellen cried, jumping up as well. "What's gotten into you? You make it sound like everything's his fault!"

"Well, I didn't really say that, but he did make the call…"

Ellen sent Richard a death glare which caused him to cower in his seat. "See? How does that feel? Not brilliant, right?"

Richard shook his head silently.

Ellen then turned to Hermione. "And you! I'm not even gonna hide it anymore! You claim to fancy that boy? Well, this is your chance to prove it! Go after him!"

Hermione blushed and nodded nervously before leaping to her feet and walking out the door.

"Now," Ellen continued, her rage subsiding slightly, "that's done. If you'll all excuse us, Richard and I have some things to discuss. Richard?" She opened the door and walked out into the hall before turning around and waiting. With her arms crossed, she made for an imposing sight, which told Richard that she was not suggesting that they have a discussion, she was demanding it.

Begrudgingly, Richard stood and followed his wife out the door and into their room.

"Whipoosh!" Draco said, making a whipping motion as the door closed. "Way to crack the whip, woman! You know what they say, like mother like daughter!"

"Draco!" Snape scolded once again. "It's that kind of attitude that gives Slytherin a bad name. Now, do not let me catch you doing that again, understood? Potter made the only sensible decision and you know that. Now set aside your petty grudge, accept it, and move on."

"Big words there, Snivellus," Sirius sneered. "Telling a schoolboy to set aside his grudge when you can't even set aside your own? Talk about a double standard!"

Severus did not answer, but instead stared at the door, deep in thought.

* * *

><p><em>July 27, 2011<em>

_8:51 PM_

Ellen closed the door behind herself and Richard before pointing at the sofa. With nary a glance at his wife, Richard obeyed and threw his wallet and keys on the counter before sitting down heavily while Ellen remained standing.

"Now," she began, "would you mind explaining exactly what it was you thought you were doing in there?"

"I was just seeing if there was any way to get out of this mess!" Richard defended himself.

"No you weren't," Ellen contradicted calmly, her arms still crossed. "You were making a young man feel like complete and utter rubbish. All he did was make the only rational choice and here you are tearing into him for it!"

"That's not true! Not once did I blame him for anything!"

"Not directly. But I saw the way you were looking at him. Talk about making someone the target! That boy's been through enough in his life to not have to put up with you and your petulant little tantrums. Just because things didn't go the way we planned doesn't mean you have to heap all of the blame on one person… or any of us for that matter! The situation was out of our control and Harry should know that. But I can tell that he's one to always blame himself and apologize for everything; Hermione's told me as much. But you've just gone and made it worse!"

"How's that?"

Ellen rolled her eyes as she sat down in one of the armchairs. "Hermione's been trying to bring him out of his shell lately. What you saw in there was the insecure, nervous Harry making his appearance after having just been hiding away. Even you must have noticed that, in the last day or two, he's seemed to be a bit more forward? I think that his deepening relationship with Hermione is doing wonders for him; making him feel less insecure about everything and more decisive. But when you go and question his decisions and make him feel at fault then that undoes all the work that you daughter has been doing."

"It can't be that bad…" Richard said sheepishly.

"Oh, dear God, Richard! Have you not hear a single thing I've said? You made the boy feel like something you'd scrape off the bottom of your shoe! That's why he ran out of the room!"

"But I wasn't blaming him, really! I mean, it might have sounded like that, but that really wasn't what I was trying to do!"

"But that's what you did! Even if you didn't mean to sound like that, that's how it came out. And since that's how it came out the damage has been done. That's why I sent Hermione after him: to fix the damage you created. You'd better hope she's successful because you're gonna need to apologize to him when he gets back...and that won't go well if he's in a foul mood."

"Fine! I get it! I cocked up!"

"And you'd better pray that Harry forgives you. Granted, I know for a fact that he will even if he shouldn't; it's just in his personality. But you've got to make it up to him somehow. I can tell you that Harry's quickly going to become a large part of our lives. Since both he and Hermione have sorted out how they feel about each other, it's just a matter of time now. So it won't do to antagonize him before he's even started a relationship with your daughter. You do that and you curse us to an eternity of never seeing them together!" She stormed out of the room, letting the door slam behind her.

Richard was left alone with his thoughts and to ponder his wife's tirade. If he was honest with himself, he could see how his words could have been construed as offensive to Harry even if he hadn't meant them that way. In reality, Richard had simply been expressing his frustration with the entire situation, not with Harry in particular. However, Ellen's words had struck a chord with Richard. As he looked back on his interactions with Harry, he had to admit that he had not been the warmest, most approachable person in the world**. **But then again, he had only known Harry for a few weeks; he couldn't be the boy's father.

Suddenly, it struck Richard.

_He doesn't have a father_, he remembered. _He needs a strong male role model __and that's what he's been searching for, even if he doesn't know it. Sirius is there__but he's not enough; sometimes Harry is more mature than he is. Then there's Remus, but he just looks like he's not always able to be in Harry's life; almost like he wanders about a bit. They're both great chaps, but they're not really a father. Sirius, he's like the cool uncle or the older brother. Remus, well, he's like a mentor more than a father. Dear Lord, that leaves me as the only one on this holiday that can fill that role!_

Richard groaned inwardly as he came to terms with the severity of the situation. _All I've done is push him away_, he reminded himself. _Granted, he hasn't really been too forthcoming with me, but part of that's my own damn fault. I haven't let him get close__so it's no wonder that he hasn't opened up._ Richard sighed as he realized exactly what he had to do to apologize to Harry. Ellen was right; if Harry and Hermione got together, then the elder Grangers would be seeing a lot of him,which meant that Richard would have to quickly take on a paternal role. _I'm gonna have to change the way I act around Harry. I mean, I haven't really been hostile up until today, and we've shared a few laughs here and there, but that's not enough. I've got to be more than that, almost like a… oh boy… a father to him. But where do I even start?_ _Dammit, I've gotta find Ellen._

He jumped up from the sofa and rushed to the door, hoping to find Ellen before she got too far away. Yanking open the door, Richard rushed out into the hall, allowing the door to close in his wake. Instantly, he peered down the hall to his left, searching desperately for his wife. Not finding her in that direction, his head whirled around to the right, only to stop short. There, sitting on the floor against the wall to the right of the door, was Ellen.

"Figure anything out?" she asked, looking up.

"Yeah," he answered shamefully.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"That's part of the reason why I came after you. Come on, let's talk like rational adults, okay?"

"Right," Ellen replied, rising from the floor. Taking her husband's hand, she waited for him to open the door to their room.

However, instead of unlocking the door, Richard simply stood there, staring at the door.

"What's wrong?" Ellen asked.

Richard did not respond as he released his wife's hand and began to pat his pockets.

"Oh, don't tell me you don't have your key!" she joked lightly. But upon seeing the look on Richard's face, she realized that that was the case.

"Do you have yours?" he asked.

"It's in my purse… which is in the room."

Surprisingly, Richard shrugged. "You know what? It doesn't matter. We can always find another way into the room. Come on, let's go down to the lobby and get another key." He interlaced his fingers with Ellen's as the two took off down the hall toward the elevator.

"So what'd you come up with then?" she asked a moment later as they reached the small alcove that housed the elevators.

With his free hand, Richard reached around and scratched the back of his head idly in nervousness. "Well… um, I was kinda thinking that I need to be more… available… and warmer to Harry."

Ellen gave him a small smile. "Well, that's a start," she conceded. "What else?"

"What do you mean, 'what else?'" Richard asked slyly. "What makes you think I've got anything else?"

"You mean aside from the fact that you just basically admitted it by getting defensive?" Ellen joked. "It's just not you. I know you better than to think you'd come up with something so shallow as just being warmer toward Harry. You're smarter than that and I know it. So tell me, what's the rest of your idea?"

Richard sighed. "He needs a father."

"Exactly!" Ellen exclaimed.

"Wait, what?"

"You're exactly right! But why?" she challenged.

"He's never really had a strong male role model in his life. Well, there's Sirius, and to an extent Remus,but they haven't really filled those shoes. You were right when you said that Harry'll be around for a while. So I might as well start to fill that role."

"Really?" Ellen balked as they boarded the elevator. "Are you sure that's what you really want to do?"

"I think it's what I have to do," he answered as he pressed the button for the lobby. "That tantrum up there, that's not me. But Harry doesn't know that. If I'm honest, I haven't got to know him as well as I should have, especially if he's someone that Hermione fancies. Right now, I'm not in a position to judge him as potential boyfriend material, which just wouldn't be fair to either Harry or Hermione. In other words, I need to get to know him better."

Ellen squeezed Richard's hand happily. "Now that's very big of you, Richard. And I'm sure Harry would appreciate it. How're you gonna start?"

"That… that I don't know," he admitted. "That's the other part of why I came looking for you."

"Okay… bounce some ideas off of me."

"What do you mean? I thought you would have some suggestions or something."

"Are you kidding? How do you expect to be sincere with Harry if your actions weren't you own idea? You need to come up with what you're gonna do if you want to be able to sell it with him. I'm here to support you in whatever you decide to doand that includes giving you some feedback. So go on, throw 'em at me!"

Richard stood silently as he racked his mind for some way to forge a strong relationship with Harry; some way to bond with the teen and make it genuine. His mind raced from option to option ranging from taking Harry out to dinner for a nice chat to simply being more approachable and letting Harry decide if he wanted to take advantage of that. However, one idea kept popping up.

"I could take him to a strip-"

"Don't you utter another syllable!" Ellen cried. "You even think about doing that and I will castrate you myself!"

Richard cowered back into the the corner of the elevator. "It was just an idea," he replied defensively. "I mean, we're both blokes so it would make sense. Not to mention he's still a randy teenager, so I was just thinking..."

"Well think again. He's going after Hermione not some slutty little thing in a dark room! What other ideas do you have?"

"I could teach him to play poker," he said alternatively.

"Teach him to play poker? Richard, that's a brilliant idea!" Ellen exclaimed, her previous irritation gone.

"Really?" he asked in amazement as the elevator doors opened.

"Yes, really. I saw how excited you two got at the prospect of dressing up and playing card games; so poker is a brilliant idea! It'll give you two time to bond over something that you both like while also giving you time to just talk. That's the difference between a mentor and a father-figure. A mentor is there to offer advice and to provide guidance. A father exists to go that extra mile and to be a light post, a role model, and a friend. A friend takes you out gambling. A mentor takes you out to tea to talk about how to solve a problem. A father does both of those things. It's a fine line to walk, but if you play your cards right… and yes the pun was intended, then you might just be able to fill that empty space in Harry's life."

"That's what I was hoping for," Richard said as they approached the front desk. "I don't know if he's learned how to play poker yet,but even if he has, it'll still give us a chance to talk as blokes, rather than as… almost rivals. Then maybe we could invite him over at the end of summer or something?"

Ellen nodded approvingly as she looked up at him lovingly. "I'm sorry I ran out on you earlier," she apologized. "But I had to. I had to give you time to think about this on your own. And from the looks of it, it was worthwhile. But that still doesn't make me feel any better about it, or about yelling at you in the first place."

"Hey, you did what you had to do to get me to see what a berk I'd been," Richard replied with a shrug. "So as far as I'm concerned, it's all water under the bridge now."

* * *

><p><em>July 27, 2011<em>

_8:50 PM_

Hermione raced out the door of Minerva's room and into the hall before skidding to a stop. She had no idea which direction Harry had fled to. She expected that he would not barrel out of Minerva's room only to retreat to theirs, so she assumed he had to be fleeing the hotel in general.

Deciding that that was the route that Harry would take, Hermione set her sights on the elevators at the end of the hall. The long cream hallway seemed to stretch forever as Hermione plodded toward the elevator, trying desperately to think of what she would say to Harry once she caught up with him. She certainly had to admit that she was a bit taken aback by her father's brusqueness toward Harry. While it was true that Hermione herself was disappointed at the outcome of their endeavor, she in no way blamed Harry for what had happened. He had simply made the best decision he could given the circumstances. And even then, in hindsight, she felt it was the correct decision.

Now all she had to do was tell him that. _The trick'll be to do it without hanging all over him,_ she thought. _He hasn't made a move yet, so I don't know how well he'd take it if I ran up to him and got all touchy-feely._

But as she pressed the button for the first floor, Hermione was reminded of the conversation she had had with her mother the day before.

_Mum said to be more forward with him,_ she remembered. _Is this what she meant? She did basically kick me out of the room back there and told me to go after him. So that means… Oh, bugger it all! Where in Merlin's name is he?_

Having reached the first floor lobby, Hermione burst from the elevator and looked around frantically. She knew Harry wouldn't go anywhere unfamiliar, so she concluded that, if she hadn't already lost him, she would find him somewhere on the Strip.

Satisfied with this conclusion, Hermione set off toward the adjoining MGM Grand, which held the closest exit onto the Strip. Walking briskly, Hermione quickly reached the casino of the MGM before skidding to a stop. There, not twenty meters ahead, was a head of uncontrollable black hair, heading in the opposite direction.

Picking up the pace, Hermione rushed to catch up with her quarry. A few seconds later, she did so, and grabbed his arm, spinning him around.

"Harry!" she exclaimed as she did so, only to stop short.

It wasn't Harry.

"Oh! Sorry!" she apologized quickly as she let go of the stranger, who was actually a young woman with short black hair, dressed as a Goth. "I… um… thought you were someone else."

Before the stranger could answer, Hermione turned and ran away, continuing on the way to the casino exit.

A moment later, Hermione stepped out the side exit from the MGM Grand and looked around frantically. The fading light of the sinking sun provided the perfect level of light for her to see in all directions without having to shield her eye from harsh rays.

In the glint of the fading midsummer sun,Hermione once again caught sight of a head of unruly ebony hair about two hundred meters in the distance. With a heavy sigh, she took off in pursuit of the person she hoped would be Harry.

The long walkway along the side of the MGM, heading toward the Strip, was the perfect location for Hermione to catch up to Harry while preventing him from disappearing once more. Hermione rounded the massive golden lion statue at the corner of the MGM Grand just in time to see Harry begin to cross the street, heading toward New York New York. The fact that he had been forced to stop at the crosswalk had given Hermione ample time to catch up.

Waiting until Harry had finished crossing the street to make her move, Hermione closed the distance between them and moved alongside him.

"Where do you think you're going?" she asked directly, though question lacked any accusatory overtones.

"You followed me?" Harry asked never shifting his gaze from the path ahead.

"Did you ever doubt I would?" Hermione queried softly.

Harry gave a small smile and snorted quietly. "No, I guess I didn't. If anyone ever comes after me it's always you."

"And you know I always will," she replied, interlacing her fingers with his as they walked. Harry looked down at their joined hands briefly before shifting his gaze back up to the sidewalk.

"Thanks," he said gently, giving her hand a soft squeeze.

"Anytime. So, you wanna talk about what's wrong?" Harry shrugged, but did not respond. "Was it something Daddy said? He was a complete wanker back there,so I wouldn't blame you if it's that."

"Nah, it wasn't him," Harry responded. "Well… not completely. I mean, I guess it just comes down to the fact that _I_ was the one who decided to call the whole thing off. Now we'll never know if we could have pulled it off."

"Bollocks!"

"Huh?" Harry balked, taken aback by her language.

"I said bollocks!" she repeated. "None of this was your fault Harry. It was just a matter of bad timing. Daddy… well, he just doesn't know how to express disappointment very well. I know for certain that he wasn't upset with you, even if it came out that way."

"But there could have been another way that we could have… I could have handled it," he protested.

"Yeah, you're right," Hermione agreed. "But hindsight really is twenty-twenty. In other words, it's easy to figure out what we could have done in the pastwhen we're not in the heat of the moment. Harry, based on what you knew at the time, and the amount of pressure we were all under, you did marvelously. I think you did a brilliant job and don't let anyone else tell you otherwise."

"Even if they're right and it could've been done better?"

"So what if it could? You can't keep blaming yourself for things you did in the past, especially if they weren't your fault. Now, Harry, I know you. I know that you like to blame yourself for things, since you're an all-around nice bloke who can't find it in him to blame someone else most of the time. I know that. But you've got to realize that not everything is your responsibility. I don't know what those monstrous Dursleys did to you, but you're better than that! Better than this! Do you think I would have hung around you this long if I didn't think that was the truth?"

"No," he replied sheepishly.

"You're right, I wouldn't. So let's just forget about this whole thing. You should... we should be acting like regular teenagers instead of people who have the whole world on their shoulders. You can't expect to make perfect decisions all of the timeso don't hold yourself to that standard!"

"I thought I already was perfect," Harry joked, giving her a small smile.

Hermione chuckled at this. "You areHarry," she agreed. "You're about as perfect as anyone could ever hope to be… as anyone could ever want."

She squeezed his hand for emphasis as they stopped in front of the Bellagio. As night approached, the resort's signature water show had just begun and crowds were beginning to flock to watch. Harry and Hermione, having been nearby already, leaned on the short fence around the large pool, still holding the other's hands.

"It really is beautiful," Hermione commented, watching as the multi-colored jets of water arched toward the heavens.

"Yeah, it is," Harry agreed. However, unlike Hermione, he was not watching the water show. His eyes were trained squarely on her.

Hermione caught this out of the corner of her eye, barely able to hold back her explosive glee.

"So what're you planning on doing when you leave Hogwarts?" Harry asked, changing the subject to something more neutral.

Hermione turned and looked at him oddly, apparently confused at the sudden change in topic. "I don't know," she admitted. "I never got a chance to have my meeting with Professor McGonagall about it. I was originally supposed to go after you but… well… that little spat between the Professor and Umbridge kinda made my meeting impossible."

"But what do you _want_ to do?" Harry pressed.

"I'm… I'm not really sure. I guess I was more concerned with everything going on at the end of term that year, what with O.W.L.s and all."

"But I saw you reading through some books!"

"Yeah, but I never really figured anything out. I think the meeting with Professor McGonagall would've helped. But honestly, I'm only sixteen! As much as I'd like to have my life planned out completely, it's just not possible! Things change… many times for the better," she glanced at Harry, "so you can't always plan for everything."

Harry nodded but did not press the issue further. Instead, almost by silent agreement, the pair departed the fence and approached Caesar's Palace on the other side of the nearby intersection. The sun had finally sunk below the horizon, which meant that the Las Vegas Strip was beginning to light up the night sky with its own neon variation of daylight.

"This place really comes alive at night, doesn't it?" Hermione asked wistfully as they walked, neither one of them willing to let go of the other's hand.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "No wonder they call it the City that Never Sleeps."

"I'm pretty sure that's New York City, Harry," Hermione laughed.

Harry shrugged. "Maybe. But the name fits this place too. It's almost like it's busier at night than during the day."

"It probably is. I've never seen the data on it-"

"Really? I don't believe it!"

She stuck her tongue out at him. "Laugh it up fuzzball," she quoted, as she used her free hand to ruffle his messy hair.

"'Fuzzball?' Where'd you come up with that?"

"Star Wars, of course," she replied. "Don't tell me you haven't seen it!"

"Hermione," he began, "I think I can count the number of films I've seen on one hand. And all of them came in school before Hogwarts. So if I were you, I'd stop being so surprised when you find out that I haven't seen this film or that. I wasn't even really allowed to watch any telly!"

"Well then, we'll have to fix that, won't we? First thing we do when we get back to the room: switch on the telly and watch it all through the night. Sound like a plan?"

Harry laughed. "Alright. You've got yourself a deal."

"At the very least it'll make for a bit of fun on this holiday," she added, as they reached The Venetian. Plastered across the resort's massive sign was an advertisement for _Phantom_. "Merlin knows we haven't been able to have enough of that yet," she finished quietly.

Despite her soft tone, Harry picked up on her comment. "What would you have done to make it more fun?" he asked.

"I dunno," Hermione replied. "It's been fun just to spend time away from everything, even if there had been work involved. But it hasn't quite been a holiday if you know what I mean. We haven't really been able to relax like people normally do on holiday; so it just feels a bit odd."

"Well, now we've got all the time in the world," Harry said. "So what do you want to do? Pick something and we'll do it!"

Hermione snorted at his eagerness, but did not answer immediately. Instead, she glanced longingly at the sign over The Venetian as they crossed the street to the other side of the Strip. "I don't know," she said lamely. "I just thought this holiday would be more fun and entertaining."

Harry rubbed his thumb against the back of her hand comfortingly. "Well, we'll find a way to make it more fun," he announced. "Trust me."

Hermione spared one final look back at The Venetian as they turned to head back to the MGM. This look, however, was not lost on Harry, who filed it away for future use.

The next several minutes of travel were undertaken in silence, as Harry and Hermione were content to revel in each other's presence; though neither would admit it to the other.

"I still can't believe they were already down there," Harry grumbled. "I thought we had more time."

"And I've been wondering where Voldemort's been hiding himself while he's here. It's almost like he sprung up out of nowhere just to go down to the vault! Granted, it should be easier for him to blend in here than in Britain, so that just means that the Ministry has no excuse about not believing you about the ritual..." she trailed off.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked.

"The ritual," she muttered. "Of course! That's it!"

"What's it?" he asked concernedly as they stopped in front of Paris.

"Professor Snape said that blood wards were being used, right?" Harry nodded. "What were the ingredients that Wormtail used in the ritual to bring Voldemort back to life?"

Harry racked his mind for a moment as he remembered the sadistic ritual and the haunting incantation that accompanied it. While he remembered the incident as clear as though it were yesterday, it took him a moment to recall the exact words of the ritual.

"'Bone of the father, unknowingly given,'" he quoted. "'Flesh of the servant, willingly given.'"

"Right…" Hermione prodded, "keep going."

"'Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken…'" Harry slowly trailed off. "Damn," he whispered. "Are you saying that-"

"Right!" Hermione interrupted excitedly. "Your blood! It was your blood that Pettigrew used to revive Voldemort! It's your blood that runs though his veins now!"

Instantly, Harry's face broke into a wide smile as the massive burden on his shoulders seemed to melt away.

"Oh! I could just-"

"What, Harry?" Hermione asked happily.

Instead of answering, Harry grabbed Hermione by the waist and lifted her off the ground, spinning her in the air. She giggled lightly as he whirled her around before setting her back on the ground and kissing her forehead exuberantly.

"You know what this means? We're not done yet! We still have a chance! Come on!" He grabbed her hand and began to run the rest of the distance to the MGM.

"Harry!" Hermione squealed as she was pulled along with him, barely able to contain her laughter.

The pair ran down the sidewalk, still joined at the hand, laughing gaily as they dodged other pedestrians and ran through intersections despite the signal. They did not stop until they reached the elevator in the lobby of the Signature.

Panting, Hermione slid down the wall next to the elevator as Harry pressed the button and took a seat next to her to wait.

"That's more than I've had to run since… since Quidditch practice this year before I was banned," Harry said, breathing heavily.

"Hey!" Hermione gasped. "It was… your idea!"

"But you've gotta admit… it was… fun!" Harry argued playfully.

"I never said it wasn't!" Hermione replied with a playful shove. However, the elevator doors opened just as she did so, causing Harry to fall back into the compartment. Laughing, Hermione rose to find that she had pushed him right onto the feet of an older couple who had already been in the elevator.

Harry bolted to his feet and threw himself against the side of the elevator, his sides splitting in laughter. The elderly couple rolled their eyes as they stepped out of the carriage, throwing Harry and Hermione one last nasty look as the doors closed once more.

As soon as the doors closed, both teens erupted in raucous laughter.

"Did you see the look on their faces?" Harry asked between laughs, pressing the button for the eighth floor.

"You're horrible!" she exclaimed, unable to keep from laughing. "All they were trying… to do… was ride the elevator!"

"Then you go… and shove me into it! So I blame you!"

Hermione's laugh slowly faded into a chuckle as she moved closer to Harry on the side of the car. She leaned up against him, panting, as they rode the rest of the trip in silence. Only the small bell, announcing their destination, broke the silence.

"After you, milady," Harry said with a sweeping gesture as the doors opened. "I have opened the doors for you!"

"Why thank you kind sir!" she joked back, their conversation eerily similar to an exchange at Heathrow airport days before. "Never before have I seen doors opened by such… magic!"

"That's because everything I do is magical," he informed her as they approached Minerva's room.

"You've got that right," she laughed raucously as they stopped in front of the door. Pausing in front of the door, the two teens stared into each other's eyes blissfully, large smiles still plastered on their faces.

Slowly, Harry closed his eyes and dipped his head toward hers. Hermione's eyes closed in response as she took a deep breath.

Harry began to move his head toward hers when a sudden click next to them caused the pair to spring apart.

"Harry! Hermione!" Sirius bellowed from the doorway. "You two are back early! I hope I didn't interrupt anything!"

Blushing furiously, the two teens stepped apart, avoiding eye contact with each other.

"No," Harry said quickly, "nothing at all."

"I mean it! I really hate to have interrupted something so...intimate!" The end of Sirius's comment was drowned out by a loud hacking coming from inside the room. Harry peered over Sirius's shoulder to see Ellen patting Richard on the back as he choked violently on his drink.

"Oh, shut it, Sirius," Harry ordered shakily, eyeing Richard carefully. "You're not gonna get any extra points for making fun of us this time." He pushed his way into the room, with Hermione close at his heels, avoiding eye contact with the occupants of the room.

"Well then this better be good," Sirius said. "Otherwise I'm liable to separate you two! Or interrupt you again," he added with a obvious wink toward Harry.

"Is there something in your eye, Sirius?" Harry asked, feigning innocence as he tried to change the subject.

"Only a tear of joy," the Marauder sniffed jokingly.

"You might want to get your eyes checked," Hermione offered helpfully. "When your eyes start sprouting tears when they aren't needed it usually means something's wrong."

"Oh, nothing's wrong, Hermione," he reassured her.

"Yeah," Ellen piped in, "his eye's just tired from watching for you two out of that peephole."

"Really?" Harry asked in annoyance as he surveyed the room. The occupants of the room had not changed from when Harry had left, with the exception of the fact that Richard looked more somber than before, and Ellen more upbeat. Something had definitely changed, Harry thought.

"Yeah," Ellen continued, "sort of like a good old-fashioned peepshow! I take it you two got everything sorted out?" she asked, directing her question more at Hermione than Harry.

Hermione nodded. "Yeah, we had a good talk. Got some things sorted. Oh! And we figured something out too!"

"Care to share it with the rest of us?" Ellen asked as Sirius grinned at Hermione's comment.

"Are you sure you want to watch that?" he muttered, earning a kick in the shin from Remus.

Hermione ignored Sirius and nodded to Harry, who realized that he should be the one to explain. "Draco," he began, but quickly caught himself. "Malfoy, didn't you say that Voldemort was using blood wards?"

Draco nodded. "Yeah, the_ Dark Lord_ used blood wards in the vault, or so I gathered from Severus and the bits and pieces I could get from father, who seemed to be doing a bit of research into their legality. Why? What difference does that make?"

"All the difference in the world," Harry announced. "How many of you know about what happened in the graveyard at Little Hangleton at the end of term last year?" A smattering of hands went up, excluding only the elder Grangers. "Well, suffice it to say that Peter Pettigrew used my blood in some beastly ritual to revive Voldemort. The ritual workedbut that's not what's important. He used my blood. _My _blood! He used his father's bones and his servant's flesh, which means that it's _my_ blood that he's living off of!"

Sirius squinted in disbelief. "Doesn't that sound like a bit of a stretch, Harry?"

"Not really," he replied. "Voldemort was never able to touch me before the ritual. Back when we went after the Philosopher's Stone, he touched me, which caused Professor Quirrell to die. But after the ritual, he was able to touch me freely! He even touched my scar! That means we're compatible now!"

"I have to say, Harry," Sirius began, "it sure sounds like you have weird taste in dating partners!" He was swiftly elbowed by Remus. "Ow! I was just telling a little joke. Everyone seems pretty happy, especially those two, so I don't see why this is the wrong time for a joke!" He glanced at Harry for confirmation, who shrugged. "Go on, Harry," Sirius said. "Some people just have no appreciation for humor."

"We just figured… well, Hermione here figured, that I could get past the blood wards," Harry continued. "I mean, if it's my blood that was used to set them upthen I should be able to get in!"

"Well, that's nice and all," Draco interjected, "but that doesn't really help us. The entire plan for robbing that place has already been used. The Merlin is crawling with every manner of government agents! There's no way to get in there now! I mean, in order to get into the vault itself, you have to get into the casino. And from the looks of it, that place is completely sealed up!"

Ellen, whose face-splitting grin could have lit an entire city block, simply shook her head. "Then we'll just have to come up with a new plan, won't we?"

"But do we really have time for that?" Draco retorted. "I thought you lot were leaving in a few days. Is that really enough time to pull off something like this?"

Harry stepped over to the large glass door and yanked open the drapes. In the distance, he could see the flashing lights of the various emergency vehicles that still surrounded the front entrance of The Merlin. While they blended in with the other flashing lights of the Las Vegas Strip, Harry was able to pick them out easily. Focusing on the multi-colored strobes of police and fire vehicles, Harry was suddenly struck by inspiration.

"I have an idea."

End of Chapter 17

A/N: Thank you all for the great reviews and response to chapter 16! For a brief moment, I was somewhat afraid that the concept of throwing the entire plan out the window would not go over well, but it did (even if it was planned). And yes, as some of you may have noticed, this chapter did contain some angst. Generally, I try to shy away from hardcore angst, but from time to time, it needs to be included. The angst in this chapter will have effects throughout the rest of the story and beyond, so it was definitely needed.

I want to congratulate the following members for correctly guessing the title of this chapter: Ibris, osc630, luvsanime02, JBird7986, inVale, acam, Dora Penmoko, and Dora Penmoko (you posted your review twice, so you get two mentions)! Remember, if you want to be mentioned at the end of the next chapter, all you have to do is guess the title of the next chapter. With only a few more chapters to go, the titles should be very easy to guess from here on out.

**Chapter Title Hint:** From my perspective, Freddie Mercury gave his fans two goodbyes in 1991, one on video, and one in song. His final music video featured him saying goodbye to viewers at the end in a very somber and touching way. However, it is the other goodbye that we are concerned with here. Coming off of the same album as the previously mentioned song, this song was more concerned with Freddie basically telling his fans, "so what?" with regards to his illness, while being a vocal masterpiece at the same time. What is even more amazing is that this song was done in a single take, making it one of Queen's most impressive works, and also one of my personal favorites of theirs. While Freddie seemed concerned with telling listeners that his illness was no big deal, this song was, and still is, a big deal. If you guess the title, I encourage you to listen to it once again. If you haven't heard it before, you should definitely do so as soon as you find out the title. I especially recommend watching the music video for this song, as it serves as a sort of trip down memory lane as we come to the end of this story in a couple of chapters.

Once again, I thank you all for your continued support and encouragement. I also want to thank pathseekerme and inVale for their help with this chapter and story in general. They have served as both betas and sounding boards for my ideas, and have only helped to make this story even better.

So I hope you enjoyed chapter 17! Please leave me a review… or several to let me know what you think. I'll see you again soon with chapter 18!


	18. The Show Must Go On

Chapter 18

**The Show Must Go On**

_July 28, 2011_

_7:46 AM_

_The Signature at MGM Grand, Room 814_

Harry Potter opened his eyes slowly, blinking several times to grow accustomed to the bright morning light. The rays of the desert sun streamed through the nearby window, highlighting the dust particles in the air yet adding a peaceful quality to the atmosphere of the room. The large flat screen television in front of the bed played quietly, displaying an advertisement for some local bail bond service.

Cracking his neck several times in either direction, Harry caught sight of a mass of bushy hair on his right shoulder, which just happened to be attached to a body that was snuggled up against his side. Realizing for the first time that he could no longer feel his right arm, Harry looked to see that it was wrapped around Hermione's shoulders, holding her close to his side as the two rested upright against the headboard of her bed.

Instantly, the events of the night before rushed back to Harry. After explaining his idea to the rest of the group and having a brief word with Minerva he and Hermione had retired to their room to fulfill Hermione's promise of spending the night watching television. The night itself had been relaxed and free of pressure asthey were no longer under the time constraints imposed by Voldemort's impending arrival. For Sirius this newly realized freedom translated into another visit to the MGM Grand Casino. Draco and Snape had returned to their respective rooms at The Merlin for fear that they would be missed. Snape was fearful that, in the wake of the botched first attempt at stealing the horcrux, that any absence of his would be highly scrutinized. As a result, he believed that he would no longer be able to lend his presence to any heist, and would be forced to sit on the sidelines for the duration of the trip.

Harry turned his attention back to the television in front of him. He and Hermione had been awake until the early hours of the morning watching a marathon of the show _Pawn Stars_, a show about a pawn shop located on the Las Vegas Strip which dealt in all types of rare and unique items. Hermione had been enthralled by the program, finding the various artifacts fascinating and the overall show educational. Harry, meanwhile, had been more interested in the high dollar amount that some people were willing to pay or demand for certain products. At points, he would find himself baffled by how much the shop was willing to offer for a specific item, as Harry would have discounted such a relic as utter rubbish.

Despite her interest in the show, as the marathon continued through the night, Hermione had fallen asleep on Harry's shoulder, cuddled up against his side. Ever the considerate one, Harry had turned down the volume when Hermione had fallen asleep, intent on continuing to watch. However, that had not lasted long as he too had soon joined Hermione in slumber.

All of this brought Harry back to present predicament of having to find a way to revive his dead arm. He shifted slightly, trying to restore blood flow to the sleeping limb, which only served to cause Hermione to emit a quiet, un-ladlylike snort.

Harry chuckled upon hearing this. _Now that's just too cute_, he thought with a smile.

However, he apparently had made too much noise with his chuckle as Hermione began to stir on his shoulder. She lifted her head from his shoulder and yawned softly as she stretched languidly.

"Morning," Harry said with a smile as she finally opened her eyes and squinted in the morning light.

"Hey," she replied quietly. "What're you doing up so early?"

"Oh, sorry," he whispered. "If you want, I'll just go in the other room if you want to go back to sleep."

"You will do no such thing, Harry Potter!" she declared, waking up fully. "We're both awake nowso there's no reason why we have to go back to sleep. Instead…" she reached for the remote on the other side of Harry and turned the television off, "we can sit here and spend time together. We're on holiday for Merlin's sake! We don't have to spend it asleep or in front of the bloody telly!"

"Ron would," he pointed out. "But it was your idea to watch it last night."

"That's right, it was. And we did it. But it looks like there was nothing on, so we might as well just sit here and figure out what we're gonna do today. We've got a few days left here, and we don't have to spend every waking moment of them worrying about this plan or that plan."

"So then, what do you want to do today?"

"You asked me that last night, remember? And I chose to watch the telly," she reminded him. "So I'll ask you. What do _you_ want to do today?"

Harry shrugged, brushing against her side. "I dunno. That's kinda why I asked you."

"Well then think of something, Harry. Not everything needs to revolve around me; we can do something that you want to do too. So, what are you thinking?"

"I dunno," he repeated. "Maybe just sit back and do nothing all day?"

"You mean like Ronald? I mean, it wouldn't hurt," she concurred. "We could sure use a day like that for a change, couldn't we?"

"After what we've been doing on our 'holiday?' Absolutely. But there are a few things I was thinking of doing today."

"Like?"

"Just a few things," he replied cryptically. "Don't worry, none of them are bad. I just want to keep some of them a surprise."

"Surprise? What for?"

"Just for the fun of it, I guess. You'll find out later. And I want to pay a visit to The Merlin to see what it looks like this morning. I'm curious if all that commotion is still going on."

"I'm sure it is," Hermione confirmed. "I mean, I'm sure they worked through the night but that was quite the mess we made yesterday. I'm sure that there'll have to be some kind of investigation or something, and that'll take time."

"Perfect," Harry muttered. "That means that Daltrey'll be there which is just what I was hoping."

"What? Do you have some kind of man-crush on him?" Hermione joked.

"You of all people should know that isn't true," Harry replied.

_Me of all people?_ Hermione thought. "And why's that?" she asked.

"Hm?"

"Why me of all people?"

"Oh… well…" Harry stuttered. "You… um… know me better than anyone else, so I… um… kinda figured you'd know better than to think I'd have a man-crush on the bloke. Besides," he added quickly, "he's not really my type."

Hermione smiled slyly at his response. While not a direct confirmation of what Harry was truly feeling, his answer might as well have been. "Relax, Harry," she said. "I was just having a bit of fun with you. You didn't need to get so defensive. But the fact that you did…"

"Um… yeah," Harry replied pathetically.

_Yep, it's coming any time now_, Hermione thought. _It's just a matter of time before he asks me. Of course, it probably would have happened last night if not for Sirius and his wretched timing!_

"Well," Harry announced, "I might as well get ready. I'm gonna go take a shower. I'll be out in a bit alright?"

Hermione nodded as he threw his legs over the side of the bed and stretched his arms above his head. Harry then padded into the other room, leaving Hermione alone with her thoughts.

* * *

><p><em>July 28, 2011<em>

_9:39 AM_

Harry put his hand to his brow to shield his eyes from the glaring morning sun as he waited for the crosswalk signal to change. After showering and searching for a bit of information on the Internet, he and Hermione had met with her parents and the Marauders for breakfast, once again courtesy of Minerva McGonagall, before venturing out of their hotel and down to the street below.

"So what're you trying to accomplish with this again, Harry?" Richard asked. Harry had simply explained that he wanted to pay a visit to The Merlin that morning but had not given a reason why.

"I just wanted to see what was going on there this morning," he answered, once again keeping his answer vague.

"You really want to waltz into the lions' den so soon?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't think it'll be that bad. I mean, they don't know it was us who tried to knock them off yesterday, so any police that are left won't be much of a problem."

"That's not what I was talking about, Harry," Richard said as the signal changed, allowing the group to cross the final street before The Merlin. "I was more referring to the fact that you seemed kinda bitter about the place last night. I know I wasn't the most… supportive or understanding bloke last night, and I'm sorry about that-"

"You don't have to apologize," Harry reassured him.

"Oh but I do, Harry. I do. I was a right arse last night and it took me a while to realize it. I really am sorry that I made it seem like what happened was all your fault. That's not what I was trying to say at all. Unfortunately, I have this uncanny ability to put my foot in my mouth. The only problem is that my foot's bigger than I remember, so it gets stuck sometimes. Then I need help from Ellen to get it out, which can make for a bit of-"

"I told you that you didn't need to worry about it," Harry interrupted.

"Hey! I'm trying to apologize here! The least you can do is let me kiss your feet in peace!"

"But I'm not angry with you! In fact, I'm not even angry with myself anymore. I kinda got over that last night. Right now, I'm more worried about making things right, and that's part of why we're here." He nodded ahead at The Merlin, which was still surrounded by a smattering of emergency vehicles. However, while the vehicles the night before had mainly belonged to the police and fire departments, today they appeared to be dominated by large black vans and sport utility vehicles.

"Looks like the rozzers are still out in force," Richard observed as they approached.

The front of The Merlin was still cordoned off with police tape. However, the restricted section was not nearly as extensive as it had been the night before. Whereas the entirety of the front walkway had been blocked off the night before, now only small sections on the sides were roped off, and that was mainly because the police and government vehicles were parked in those areas.

However, the major difference from the night before was the heightened level of security outside the resort. Putting aside the police saturation of the night before, neither Harry nor any other member of the group had seen security levels at The Merlin this high. Stationed outside each of the four large glass doors was a pair of armed security guards. The doors themselves, which were normally clean and clear, were blacked out from the inside. Various officials dotted the exterior gardens, all dressed in full, pressed suits, discussing matters with other suits. All in all, judging simply from the outside of the building, The Merlin looked to be an impregnable fortress.

"Looks like we did a real number on this place," Harry commented after looking over the resort for the first time.

"And that's just the outside," Hermione added from his right.

"Are you sure you want to do this Harry?" Sirius asked from behind him. "Nobody'll think less of you if you don't."

Harry turned to Sirius and raised one eyebrow. "I'm not worried about what other people think of me. I'm worried about getting the job done. I came here… we came here, with a single purpose. And I'm not gonna let some bad timing get in the way of us finishing what we started. I know this looks bad, but it might just work in our favor."

"How?" Sirius asked. "Don't get me wrong, I've got all the faith in the world in you. But I'm just curious as to what you're planning. You didn't really give us many details last night so what're you up to?"

"You'll see…" Harry replied with an evil grin.

"Maybe I don't want to know," Sirius muttered.

Harry led the way toward the front door, making a point to ignore the authorities that were milling around outside. However, just as he reached one of the doors, a guard stepped in front.

"Can I see your room key?" he asked gruffly, his arms crossed over his chest. By all appearances, this unnamed guard could have passed as a night club bouncer who just happened to have a day job as a casino guard.

"Room key?" Harry asked. "Now why would Ineed to show you that?"

"Only guests of The Merlin are allowed inside at the current time. Due to safety issues as well as an ongoing investigation, all non-registered guests are not allowed inside at present." The burly man seemed as though he was reciting a script, as his monotone voice gave no indication that he possessed any personality. "We apologize for the inconvenience."

_Yep, he's talking from a script_, Harry thought. "Safety issues? What do you mean?"

"I am not at liberty to say, sir. If you are not a guest of The Merlin, then I must ask you to leave the premises immediately."

"You've gotta be kidding me," Harry grumbled before turning around and walking the short distance back to the rest of the group.

"What's up?" Sirius asked as Harry returned.

"They're not letting anyone in who isn't a 'guest' of The Merlin. In other words, we can't get back in… yet."

"What do you mean, 'yet?'" Remus asked. "What're you not telling us about your plan?"

However, before Harry could respond, he spotted a familiar face in the crowd of investigators. There, in the distance, engaged in a conversation with another government official, was Roger Daltrey. Harry stared at him conspicuously, trying to figure out what he was doing there. But Harry was a bit too obvious in his staring as a few seconds later Daltrey spotted Harry out of the corner of his eye. Handing his associate the single piece of paper he had been holding, Daltrey strode quickly toward Harry.

Daltrey grabbed Harry by his upper arm and dragged him over to one of the parked SUVs before shoving him against the side of the vehicle.

"Do you have any idea what kind of mess you made here last night?" Daltrey growled, his face inches away from Harry's.

Harry glanced over the older man's shoulder and shook his head, warning the others off. "Yeah, I do have a fair idea," he replied cheekily.

"No, I don't think you do Potter. So let me educate you on what we could potentially charge you with. First, we have possession of an explosive device. We have arson, vandalism, breaking and entering, terrorism, reckless endangerment. And those are just a few of the muggle crimes! If you want to start on the magical ones, we could talk about unauthorized use of a wand in a gaming facility, property destruction by magical means, and a violation of the International Statute of Secrecy. You have no idea what kind of trouble you'd be in if you were caught."

"Then I guess it's a good thing I haven't been caught, isn't it?"

"I'm of half a mind to turn you in right now, Potter. You've turned this place into a circus and made a complete mess of the entire thing!"

"Well I must've done something right," Harry reasoned. "You're here after all and that's exactly what you wanted. You have your investigation so go investigate!"

"If only it were so easy," Roger complained. "I just don't have the latitude I need in this investigation. Because no actual robbery occurred, the MGC has limited authority in the matter. Instead, the majority of this case has been turned over to local muggle law enforcement. Of course, they have no idea about the magical crimes. They seem to think that the servers were destroyed with conventional explosives. But I've seen enough blasting curses and potion-based explosions to know the difference."

"What would you need to get the investigation you really want?" Harry asked slyly.

"No help from you, thank you very much. You've screwed this up enough to where I don't want any more help from you."

"Why not? What if I told you that I could make it worth your while?"

"Do you expect me to be tempted by that kind of offer, Potter? I fell for that trick last time and look where it got me! I'm up to my eyeballs in paperwork, to say nothing of the pressure that's on me to get this place back up and running fully!"

"But what if I said thatnot only is Malfoy violating your regulations but he's also using illegal security measures in his vault. What would you say to that?"

"I'd say prove it," Daltrey replied. "I'd also say that I can't get into the vault. Because no part of this incident occurred in the vault we have no jurisdiction down there. So I'd say your claim was pretty hollow."

"Well then, think again," Harry retorted. "Because I can get you into the vault so long as you help me. We're gonna try again-"

"No you are not!" Daltrey declared. "You did a bad enough job the first time! I'm not gonna let you go in and make the same mistakes all over again!"

"We're not gonna make the same mistakes again!" Harry argued. "Because you're gonna help us!"

"I helped you last time, and look where that got me! You know what? We're going in circles and getting nowhere. Let me just say that I'm not gonna help you again!"

"You didn't really help us the first time, you just gave us a bit of information; information we could have got through other means. This time we actually need something from you. You help us this time and that'll be it. If we fail, we'll leave and never bother you again. But we won't fail. This time, we're working on our own schedule with no other pressure."

Daltrey paused for a moment as he considered Harry's words. "And you're sure that Malfoy doing something illegal down in that vault of his?"

"Absolutely. And besides getting you into the vault, we'll be able to get you the leverage you need to run a full investigation of this place. Actually, with any luckwe'll ruin Malfoy himself… at least financially."

"Oh, now that's some big talk. And how do you plan on doing that with a simple heist?"

"Well, we kinda found out that he isn't carrying insurance on his vault," Harry said casually.

"What?" Daltrey shouted. "That's…" he lowered his voice, "that's illegal, at least under MGC regulations. How do you know this?"

"I can't say," Harry replied mysteriously. "But suffice it to say that he's using his own money as collateral. If we hit the resort hard enough, that may ruin Malfoy and push him out of this city all together."

"That's a lot of maybes, kid. But if you can do it…"

"We can."

Daltrey sighed heavily. "What do you need?"

"Just a few things. Things like seven MGC technician uniforms and identification cards…"

"Whoa! Wait up kid! What do you need those for?"

"If I told you, then you'd know," Harry responded logically. "Plausible deniability… remember?"

"Kid, that's illegal. I can't get you that stuff; they'd have my head if I did!"

But Harry ignored him and pressed on. "And security clearance for all of us. But that kidna goes along with the ID cards. Oh! And we need an international portkey back to Britain. An unregistered one, of course, that can be voice activated anywhere outside an anti-portkey ward."

"Absolutely not! Harry, that's illegal!"

"And what Malfoy is doing in there is illegal too! Get off your high horse and get down in the mud with us, Daltrey! You want to take Malfoy down? Well this is how you do it! Either you help us or we don't help you!"

Daltrey shook his head as he looked down. "Harry, I can't help you. It's just not possible for me to get you that equipment. I'd be going against everything I've ever held dear and sworn to uphold in my position if I helped you. Not to mention the fact that most of the stuff you're wanting my help with is just as illegal as the stuff you claim Malfoy's doing!" He then looked up at Harry, a small grin on his face. "I'll need twenty-four hours. Don't come and see me this time tomorrow morning and I won't have the stuff you want," he finished slyly.

Harry smiled as he glanced at his watch. "Then I won't come and see you tomorrow morning at… ten in the morning, is that right?" Daltrey nodded. "Then I won't see you tomorrow then. I'm sorry you couldn't help us, Roger." He turned to walk away.

"Me too, Harry. Me too. But it was impossible, so I'm not gonna worry about it. But hey, at least I won't be losing any sleep tonight trying to help you!"

"Yeah, whatever," Harry grumbled playfully. "Thanks for nothing, Daltrey."

He returned to the others, who had been waiting anxiously after watching a man they had never met drag Harry away.

"What was that all about?" Hermione asked concernedly.

"That," Harry began, "was Roger Daltrey. Let's just say that we had words."

"And?" Richard pressed expectantly.

"And we discussed a few things. I won't know until tomorrow morning whether he's gonna help us so I won't bore you with the details. Really, I don't want to get your hopes up unless I have something concrete to tell you. But since I can't think of any other options, we might as well enjoy ourselves for the rest of the day until we find out for sure, right?"

"You mean like an actual holiday?" Hermione asked playfully, echoing their conversation from earlier in the morning.

"Like an actual holiday," Harry repeated with a nod.

"Sounds like you've got something in mind, Harry," Richard observed.

"Now, what gave you that idea?"

"Only the fact that you're not being very good about hiding it," Richard retorted. "And the fact that you're asking about it to delay me from finding out. Trust me, Harry, I'm a father. I know how kids operate."

"True**. **But do you know how _this_ kid operates?"

Richard shook his head. "Not yet. But trust me, I'll find out soon. I'm on to you, you know."

"Empty threats Richard," Harry laughed. "Empty threats."

"Oh, just you wait kid," Richard joked. "You'll find out I don't make empty threats!"

"Another empty threat! Oh! I just remembered. You know how I kinda said we would have a day where we could do whatever?" His question was met with nods. "I lied… kinda. We've gotta do some… dare I say it? Shopping. But," he added quickly, "I'm counting myself out of this one. I've done enough shopping since I got here, and I'm not going again for a while."

"What do you need, Harry?" Sirius volunteered. "I'll admit that I haven't really done much except sit on my arse and lose money, so I might as well get out for a change. And if I go, Moony here goes with me. So you've got two volunteers already!"

"Hey!" Remus protested. "I didn't volunteer for anything!"

"Don't you remember that contract you signed in first year that said that you would follow one Sirius Black III wherever he went?" Sirius asked him.

"Nope! Sirius, next time you come up with a joke like that, think about it first. If I followed you everywhereI would've gone to Azkaban with you."

"Details, details. Anyway, you're coming with me."

"Don't you two want to know what you're getting first?" Hermione asked.

"Maybe…"

Despite the fact that Harry rolled his eyes, it was still good to see that his conversation with Sirius two days before had not changed the older man's personality completely. At the very least, he was still capable of having fun, which was something that Harry did not want to deprive him of.

"We need two-way radios," Harry announced. "And some large bags… designed for equipment or something like that. Kind of like those large black duffel bags everyone seemed to carry around in the airport."

Sirius and Remus nodded, the latter seemingly taking mental notes.

"But," Harry continued, "I think Minerva should go with you two. I know I can trust you to do the right thing. But I don't know if I can trust you to _buy_ the right thing."

Sirius clutched at his chest playfully. "Harry, you wound me!"

"Was it painful?" Harry asked, feigning hopefulness.

Sirius gestured flippantly toward Harry. "Look at that! He doesn't even care about me! Kids these days, I swear!"

Harry shook his head before eyeing Minerva. "See why I asked you to go too?"

Minerva nodded understandingly. "I can certainly see why I'm needed. I will try to keep these to rapscallions in line. One their professor, always their professor I guess."

"That's all I ask."

"Should we go now then?" Sirius asked.

Harry shrugged. "Might as well. Think of it this way: the sooner you go the sooner you get back. In other words, the sooner you get this done the more free time you'll have later."

Sirius's face brightened comically at this as he spun on one heel and began to walk away.

"Do you even know where you're going?" Hermione called.

Instantly, Sirius froze but did not turn around.

"I'll take that as a no," Remus chuckled. "Care to enlighten us Miss Granger?"

"You want to go right next to Treasure Island," she informed them. "There's a shopping complex there and there's even a magical shopping area insideif you absolutely need it. Otherwise, you should be able to find everything you need in there."

Armed with this new bit of information, Sirius resumed his trek away from the rest of the group. Remus and Minerva chased after him, leaving Harry alone with the three Grangers.

"So then what are we gonna do?" Hermione asked once they were alone.

"That's up to you lot," Harry replied. "We've pretty much got the rest of the day to do whatever we want to do. How about seeing the sights a bit?"

"What do you mean?" Richard asked. "I thought we had already wandered around a bit? What else did you want to see?"

"I dunno," Harry answered with a sly smile. "I'm sure there're plenty more places to see. I mean, what else is there for us to do here beside gamble? And don't answer that; it's a rhetorical question."

Richard chuckled as Harry moved to the side of the street. Mere moments after raising his hand into the air a taxi stopped in front of the quartet.

"Hm," Harry grunted. "It really works."

"What really works?" Hermione asked. "Have you never hailed a taxi before?"

"Never had to, remember? The closest I've come is hailing the Knight Bus but I hardly think that raising my wand into the air with all of these muggles around would be the best idea."

Harry walked around the other side of the taxi and handed the driver a scrap of paper before opening the door for Hermione. Richard took the front passenger seat while Ellen sat directly behind him. Harry, after letting Hermione get in first, took his seat next to her behind the driver.

As soon as Harry closed his door the taxi sped off, quickly merging with the heavy morning traffic.

"Where're we going Harry?" Hermione asked as she looked past him out the window.

"I just thought it'd be fun to get out a bit. See the sights, you know?"

"No I don't," she replied lightly.

"Well then, you'll find out soon enough."

The rest of the ride was completed in silence as the four passengers found themselves occupied with staring out the windows at the various parts of the Las Vegas Strip that they had yet to see. Eventually, however, the massive resorts and casinos began to thin, as the street narrowed into four lanes.

"This almost doesn't even look like the same place anymore," Hermione observed, as the glittering lights and sights gave way to a somewhat dingier area of town.

A few moments later, however, the taxi pulled into a small parking area and stopped. Harry glanced out the window to make sure that they were in the right area before opening his door and paying the driver. Taking this as their cue, the other three passengers exited the car as well, which promptly took off to find another fare.

"Where are we?" Ellen asked, looking around the half-filled parking lot.

Instead of answering, Harry simply pointed up at the sign hanging off of the adobe building in front of them.

"You didn't," Hermione muttered as she read the sign for the first time.

"Yep," Harry said proudly. "Gold and Silver Pawn shop. I thought it might be fun to come down here."

While Hermione understood the significance of that name, it was lost on the elder Grangers. "Um, forgive me for saying this," Ellen began, "but what's the deal about some little pawn shop?"

"Normally nothing," Harry agreed. "But Hermione and I spent last night watching a show about this place. Apparently, it's one of the more famous pawn shops in the country and gets all kinds of odd items. I just thought it might be kinda fun to check it out."

Richard shrugged. "Why not? It certainly beats sitting up in our hotel rooms all day!"

"That's what I thought!" Harry said appreciatively. "Just because we're here doesn't mean we have to buy anything. We can just look around for a bit to kill some time."

With that, Harry led the way to the front door before opening it for the others. Hermione smiled in thanks as she passed by, causing Harry to blush slightly. However, the blush seemed to disappear instantly as Richard passed by, taking advantage of the open door to enter the shop.

* * *

><p><em>July 28, 2011<em>

_11:33 AM_

_The Signature at MGM Grand, Room 814_

Hermione was startled out of her reverie by a swift rapping at the door. Harry had split off from the Grangers on the return trip from the pawn shop, citing some mysterious errand that required his attention. As he had not yet returned, Hermione was understandably curious about what he was doing.

Abandoning her vantage point at the large sliding glass door, Hermione moved to answer the door, only to find Minerva on the other side.

"Everything alright in here Hermione?" she asked concernedly as she stepped over the threshold and into the room.

"Yeah, why wouldn't it be?"

"I was just curious, that's all," Minerva replied defensively, still standing near the door.

"You're back awfully quickly for having to all that shopping," Hermione observed.

"There's a reason Harry asked me to go," Minerva explained with a smile. "See, errands get done faster when there's an adult along to help facilitate matters. I simply forced Misters Black and Lupin to focus on the task at hand rather than wander around the complex aimlessly. So instead of buying standard muggle duffel bags, I simply insisted that we buy some bottomless mokeskin duffel bags instead by going to the magical shopping area. As a result, we were finished quite quickly."

"So you came to talk to me then?"

"Hermione," Minerva began as she sat on the sofa, "I realized last night after some prodding that we did not have the chance to discuss your future. I will admit that my counseling session with Mr. Potter went rather poorly but that was no excuse to cancel the rest. Since we don't really have much else to do today I thought that this would be an excellent time to catch up."

"I… I'm not sure what I want to do," Hermione admitted.

"And that is why we hold those counseling sessions; in order to give you an idea of what's out there,"her professor said. "You are at an age where you don't have to know exactly what you want to do with your life. That's what the counseling sessions were for: to help provide guidance, not lock you into a particular path. Hermione, if I'm honest with you, I see you as an exact replica of what I was like at your age. In that way, I see a bit of me in you, so naturally I'm interested in what you want to do with your life. But if you don't know, that's alright. We can start with what you think your strengths are and move on from there."

Hermione sat down on the armchair across from the sofa. "I like to read," she began.

"Alright, well, that's a start."

"And learn," Hermione continued. "I guess I always have, ever since I was younger. For a time, books became my best friends so I naturally tried to read as many of them as I could. I guess that led to me being a bit of a loner... but that's neither here nor there."

"Exactly. But what you're saying is that you have a passion for learning. Is that something that you want to do for a living?"

Hermione shrugged. "I don't see any reason why I shouldn't. I mean, I really like to learn as much as possible, so maybe I could do something with that?"

"Absolutely! Really, I have two ideas about careers that might interest you with the first being an Unspeakable."

"Unspeakable? You mean those people who work at the Ministry in the Department of Mysteries? I never hear much about them or what they do."

"And that's purposeful Miss Granger. Unspeakables work on and study the most secret topics in the magical world. On occasion their work is released to the general public such as with time-turners. In fact, from what I have recently heard, they have just developed a new prototype of time-turner that they're calling a Spatial Time-Turner."

"Spatial? You mean it will transport you through time and space?"

"Exactly! Now it is still experimental, but that's the kind of work that the Unspeakables do: the forbidden, the mysterious."

"Sounds like it could be fun," Hermione mused. "But what was your other idea?"

"Honestly, Hermione, I think that this other career might be better suited to you. You are a brilliant, gifted young witch who could do wonders in the Department of Mysteries. But I don't think that that would be the best use of your talents. Instead I believe that teaching may be more suited to you."

"Like at Hogwarts? Or just in general?"

"I am more referring to in general. Don't get me wrong however. I believe that you are talented enough to teach at Hogwarts in whatever subject you choose. I personally have found teaching to be extremely rewarding, as every day I am given the chance to watch students grow and learn. Watching children evolve and take interest in something you hold dear is one of the most rewarding things you could ever experience. Hogwarts could benefit from someone of your intellect Hermione; and I believe that to be the case years before you are even scheduled to finish Hogwarts. Now that's saying something."

"What would I need to do?"

"It depends on what subject you're interested in. For the most part every Hogwarts Headmaster has required that their teachers be certified masters in their respective fields. This requires studying as an apprentice under another master. Now that is not always the case, as Albus would tell you. The… esteemed Mr. Lockhart for instance, was not a Defense master yet he was hired. And I will not even begin to discuss that Umbridge woman as her employment was beyond the school's control. But I will tell you this, Hermione: I would love to see you teaching at Hogwarts… in the near future in fact. The truth of the matter is that I am growing older by the day and it will soon be time for me to retire. From what I've seen of you over the past few years I would like nothing more than to have you replace me as Transfiguration professor."

"Really?" Hermione asked in awe. In truth, she had considered a career in teaching but felt that she might be a bit too bossy to make a truly great teacher. If she looked at her inability to get either Ron, or to a lesser extent Harry, to study or do their homework on time then she could easily conclude that her methods may not be the most effective. However, hearing Minerva say that she wanted Hermione to be her successor was high praise indeed and made Hermione want to reconsider the possibility of a career in teaching. "Then how would I go about doing that?"

"It would take a lot of work." Minerva explained. "But I don't think that you're a stranger to hard work, right?" Hermione smiled and shook her head. "Then it all comes down to what subject you're interested in."

"And if I wanted to look at Transfiguration?"

Minerva gave Hermione a small yet joyous smile. "Then we could work on that. Not now, of course, but in the future. However, if you are interested in learning Transfiguration then I would love to teach you everything I know. That is, of course, if you are interested. Think about it. Talk about it with those close to you. I know for a fact Mr. Potter probably has something to say on the matter."

"You already talked with Harry about this?"

Minerva stopped just as she put her hand on the knob. "Who do you think it was who told me that I should have this conversation with you in the first place?" She turned to face Hermione once more. "He is an incredible young man Hermione. You are very lucky to have him."

"I know," Hermione whispered.

"We'll talk about this more as the new term approaches. But for now, keep it in mind and let me know what you come up with."

Hermione nodded silently as her favorite professor opened the door and left the room. Once again Hermione was left alone with her thoughts. However, she was not alone for long as a moment later the door opened once more to reveal Harry.

"Hey," he said as he entered the room, "how's it going?" He kicked off his shoes and threw himself on the sofa lazily.

Though tempted to ask Harry about the conversation with Minerva, Hermione wisely held her tongue choosing instead to revel in the warm and fuzzy feeling it created.

"Did you get what you needed to do done?" she asked.

"Yep," he replied.

"And? What was it**?**"

"That's for me to know and you to find out… eventually."

"Oooh, mysterious," Hermione joked.

"And hungry," he added, as he stomach grumbled audibly.

"Ugh, boys!" she groaned.

"What!" Harry exclaimed as he rose from his seat. "I'm a growing boy! I need my food!"

"I think Ronald says the same thing," Hermione reminded him. "Just don't go turning into him and we won't have a problem."

Harry chuckled. "Don't worry. I don't think there's a possibility of that happening," he reassured her. "Now, what did you want to eat?" He pulled out the room service menu and began to peruse it while Hermione thought about her response.

"I'm really not that hungry," she replied. "So I guess it's up to you."

"How does pizza sound?" he asked from behind the menu.

She shrugged in response. "Sounds good to me. You know I won't eat much of it anyway so I guess it's your preference."

Harry put down the menu and looked at her curiously. "But I want to know what kind you want," he said. "It doesn't matter if you're not gonna eat much of it; you're going to eat some of it. So we can get whatever you want."

Hermione smiled at him in a placating fashion. "That's very thoughtful Harry but you're gonna eat the most of it anyway so you can choose what we eat."

"How about we both choose?" he suggested. "I mean, we can get pizza but we can both pick the toppings. How about that?"

"Sure," she agreed. "I like mushrooms myself."

"And I like meat."

"Typical boy," she muttered cheekily, a remark that caused Harry to stick his tongue out at her.

"How about ham then? Nothing like some good pork to make a meal great!"

Hermione rolled her eyes but smiled as she nodded slightly. "Sounds good."

As Harry placed the call to the front desk Hermione retired to her bedroom while leaving the door open. She hopped onto the bed and positioned herself against the headboard as she turned on the television and began to surf through the channels. After a moment she suddenly stopped her search and set the remote aside.

A moment later Harry walked through the door. "It'll be about a half hour or so," he announced as he jumped on the bed next to Hermione. "What's on?"

"A movie that you should have seen years ago," Hermione answered.

"Well that doesn't tell me a lot. What's it called?"

"_Terminator 2_. It's a classic Harry, trust me. And it just started so your timing was perfect!"

"What can I say?" he boasted as he pretended to polish his nails on his shirt. "Perfection is my middle name."

"I thought it was James?"

"Only legally," he retorted expertly. "But you've known me long enough to know that my real middle name is Perfection."

"Whatever you say, Harry," she said patronizingly, chuckling. "But you've gotta watch this at least until the pizza gets here."

"If it's as good as you say then I'll watch it even after that," he promised as he scooted closer to her and pulled her into his side.

* * *

><p><em>July 28, 2011<em>

_1:12 PM_

_The Signature at MGM Grand, Room 814_

"Grab the grenade!" Harry shouted at the television, screaming at Arnold Schwarzenegger's character to grab the final grenade that he had dropped in the bed of the truck.

"Harry, he can't hear you," Hermione said, placing her arm on his.

"I know that!" he laughed, slapping her arm away playfully. "But I can't help but get involved in the movie!" He reached over and grabbed the final half of his piece of pizza from the bed next to him.

"You two look like you're enjoying yourself," a voice came from the door next to and behind the teens.

Both Harry and Hermione whipped their heads around to see Richard standing in the doorway of the bedroom. He eyed the pizza box resting on the bed next to Harry before glancing at the television. "Terminator?"

"Yep," Hermione confirmed.

"Want some pizza?" Harry asked, gesturing toward the half-empty box.

Richard shrugged and chose a piece for himself.

"How'd you get in here, anyway?" Hermione asked.

Richard finished chewing and swallowed his first bite before answering. "I got a key for all of the rooms I rented," he explained. "One of the perks of being the person who's actually paying is that I can get into any of the rooms I'm paying for... provided I ask." He grinned evilly before taking another bite. "Why? Was I interrupting something?"

Harry shook his head fervently. "No," he replied.

"Good," Richard said. "And how'd your little errand go? What'd you have to do?"

Harry glanced over to Hermione quickly before replying. "It just has to do with something in the future," he answered enigmatically. "But I'll talk to you about it later."

Richard nodded as he glanced back at the television, which was just returning to the film from commercial. He then looked down at the two teens, whose attention had returned to the screen. Both of them seemed very comfortable in their current position and with their current company.

"Pizza's not bad," he commented. He then turned back to the door. "It's a good movie," he added. "Enjoy it." He then walked out of the room leaving Harry and Hermione alone once again.

"What was that all about?" Harry asked as soon as Richard had left.

"Ugh," Hermione rolled her eyes. "He and mum have this idea that we're both pining away for each other but can't admit it." As soon as she finished speaking, she held her breath. _Come on, Harry, take the bait_, she prayed silently.

Reaching for the remote, Harry muted the television. "You make it sound like it's some crazy idea."

"I..." Hermione trailed off, at a loss for a coherent response.

"Because we both know what would have happened last night if Sirius hadn't opened the door," Harry continued, sounding more confident than he felt. "So to me it's not really that crazy of an idea. Personally, I've always believed that feelings can change over time."

"So you're saying..."

"All I'm saying is that I know how I've started to feel now," he replied nervously. "And since I'm hoping you feel the same way-"

"I do," she interrupted quickly.

"Then I'll say that I was fully planning on doing something... with just the two of us, mind you, once this whole thing with the horcrux is over. I don't want it to be overshadowed by Death Eaters, horcruxes, or anything else."

"I can't wait," she breathed as she burrowed into his side.

"Well, I hate to break it to you, but we're gonna have to. But until then..."

"No funny business," she interrupted quickly. "I've always hoped that my first _real_ kiss would be on a _real _date. So even if we both feel the same, I want to wait."

"Fair enough," Harry agreed.

"Thanks Harry," she whispered. "So what're you planning? Or are you gonna keep it a secret?"

Harry looked at the television as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Soon," he said. "You'll find out soon."

* * *

><p><em>July 28, 2011<em>

_8:19 PM_

_The Signature at MGM Grand, Room 814_

Harry closed his computer and placed it to the side on the sofa before rising from his seat. To his leftHermione was curled up in one of the armchairs, her legs tucked under her, reading Harry's copy of Patriot Games. He glanced at her to make sure she was comfortable before grabbing his wallet from the counter and beginning to lace up his shoes.

"Where're you going?" Hermione asked, looking up from the book.

"Just… out," he replied, finishing tying his shoes.

"Where?"

"I just thought I'd take a walk for a bit; get out of the room for a while."

Immediately, she moved to close the book. "Oh! I'll come with you then!" she declared.

Harry's eyes went wide. "No! That's alright!" he said quickly, causing Hermione to sit back down slowly.

"Are you sure?" she asked through narrowed eyelids, suspicion rising.

"Yeah," Harry reassured her. "You can just sit back and relax with that book. I shouldn't be gone for too long."

Hermione nodded hesitantly. "Alright," she said slowly as he moved toward the door.

"I'll see you in a while." Harry opened the door and stepped out into the hall, closing the door softly behind him.

Instead of walking down the hall he crossed over to the door across from his and Hermione's. Knocking hesitantly, he stepped back and waited for the door to be answered. A moment later Ellen opened the door.

"Harry! What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing's wrong," he replied quickly. "I was just wondering if Richard… erm... Mr. Granger was available?"

Ellen gave Harry a knowing smile. "He sure is Harry. Would you like to speak to him?"

"If it wouldn't be too much trouble…"

"It wouldn't be any trouble at all Harry," she said. "Trust me, he won't have any problem with talking with you. Richard!"

Ellen stepped away from the door and allowed it to swing open wider. A moment later, Richard stepped into the door frame and eyed Harry carefully. "Yes, Harry?"

Harry shuffled on his feet briefly as he searched for the right words. "I was wondering if we could talk sir?"

Richard smiled at Harry. "Absolutely, Harry. But on one condition: don't call me sir. I'm too young to be called 'sir'. Care to come in?"

"Actually… Richard I was hoping we could walk around a bit; maybe talk in private?"

Richard glanced behind himself at his wife, who was grinning madly, and nodded. "You actually have perfect timing, Harry. I was hoping to go down to the casino with you sometime soon and spend a bit of time together. This seems like the perfect chance don't you think?" He stepped out into the hall, letting Ellen close the door behind them.

"Have fun you two," she called out before closing the door. But before she could, Richard stopped her.

"Could you have Remus meet us down near the lion enclosure for a moment?" he asked. Ellen nodded knowingly. "Don't worry, Harry," Richard added, turning his attention to Harry, "he's not gonna be involved in the conversation. I just need his help with something briefly."

Harry nodded as the pair walked to the elevators at the end of the hall in relative silence. Richard finally broke the silence as he pressed the elevator button. "So what is it you wanted to talk about, Harry?"

"Um…" Harry stuttered as they entered the elevator, which had apparently been waiting on their floor.

"You know, Harry, I have a good idea of what you want to talk about. So why don't you just spit it out and we'll go from there, alright?"

"Well… you see… I've been friends with Hermione now for five years, and well… I really like her… oh, sod it!" Harry declared, throwing his hands up. "I've been friends with Hermione for years and I've really come to like her and appreciate her-"

"You sound a bit young to be asking for her hand in marriage Harry," Richard joked, trying to lighten the tension. Apparently, it worked.

"No!" Harry insisted, blushing mightily. "I was just wanting to ask you permission to ask her out!"

"Ah, there it is," Richard breathed. "You know, I've been waiting for this conversation for a few days now. Does this have anything to do with that little errand you ran earlier in the day?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I wanted to get everything ready before I actually came to you. That way, it might seem like I was at least somewhat prepared."

Richard chuckled. "Harrythe last thing I would think about you is that you were unprepared. I've seen you over the past few days, planning and plotting. So don't think you look unprepared in the least. A bit nervous maybe, but never unprepared. Can I ask what it is you've got planned?"

Harry told him his idea, which immediately earned high praise from Richard.

"Brilliant idea, Harry! Hermione'll love it! And you've got everything taken care of already?" Harry nodded. "Brilliant!"

"So you like it?" Harry fished.

"Absolutely!" Richard exclaimed as the elevator doors opened to the lobby. "And frankly, Harry, I am surprised you're asking me for permission to court Hermione. I mean, I remember asking Ellen's father the same thing, but that was a different time and he had different expectations. Personally I think it's just respectful to the father but that's just me. So you've already scored a few points with me there!" He grinned at Harry.

Inwardly Harry was elated but did not respond verbally as the pair reached the MGM casino.

"I was thinking, Harry, that we might try a bit of poker tonight. I don't know how much experience you have with card games outside of blackjack but poker is great fun!"

"Alright!" Harry said exuberantly. "I think you remember how excited I was about the whole high-roller blackjack thing so this should be a rollicking good time!"

"Whoa there Harry! Don't get too excited otherwise it'll show. See, I'm gonna stake you in the tournament that's gonna be starting soon so you want to be at your best."

"Wait, what? I thought you were gonna show me how to play?"

"I am. But the thing about poker is that it's not quite the same if you don't have the pressure of a real game on your shoulders. So I'll be right next to you, playing along with you, so long as it's alright with the casino. So long as we are both open about helping each other, I can't foresee them having a problem."

"I could," Harry opined. "I mean, if we're really playing for money, won't they take issue with two players playing together? Isn't that kinda cheating?"

Richard shrugged. "As long as we aren't giving information about the other players' cards, we should be fine. But just to be on the safe sidewe'll see if we can get a table that's kinda empty."

As they reached the lion enclosure, Harry spotted Remus leaning against the glass.

"So we're gonna age Harry a bitare we?" the Marauder asked Richard. Obviously Ellen had told Remus of Richard's plan.

"Yeah," he nodded. "Something tells me that he wouldn't be able to spend much time playing poker looking like he does now."

Remus nodded as he pulled Harry into a nearby restroom. A few moments later, Harry emerged, familiarly disguised as someone several years his senior. Nodding in approval, Remus split away from Richard and Harry, once again leaving them to their own devices.

"Why're you doing this?" Harry asked as they reached the poker area, just past the lion enclosure.

"Because I want to Harry. Frankly, if you're going to date my daughter, then I want to get to know you. I know how this conversation is supposed to go, at least according to the father's textbook. I'm supposed to intimidate you, glare at you and ask you embarrassing questions. I imagine that it'd be good fun for me but I also understand that it wouldn't be for you. That's why I'm not gonna put you through that. Instead, we're gonna play poker and just talk, man to man, not father to potential boyfriend."

"Boyfriend…" Harry whispered, the reality of the situation finally sinking in, despite his conversation with Hermione earlier in the day.

"That's right, Harry, I said it. That is why you asked to talk to me, isn't it?"

Harry nodded silently as Richard approached the entry desk at the poker lounge. He paid for entry for both Harry and himself but Harry's eyes bulged when he glanced over and saw that the required entry fee was five hundred dollars per player.

"You're really spending that much?" Harry whispered to Richard as they walked into the lounge.

Richard shrugged. "The cost doesn't really matter Harry. Ignore that and just have fun, alright?"

"Okay…" Harry replied hesitantly.

As the night was young, the poker lounge was sparsely populated with only a handful of players at each table. Armed with their chips, Richard led the way to a table in the far corner, around which sat only two other players and the dealer.

"Ready Harry?" Richard asked as they sat down.

"Ready as I'll ever be," Harry answered nervously.

"Hey, don't be nervous, Harry. I'll be here the entire time. Oh! And here." He pulled a small piece of folded paper out of his pocket and handed it to Harry. Harry unfolded the paper to find a list and description of poker hands.

"Thanks," Harry said. "That'll help."

As the lounge was so sparsely populated, the dealer at Harry and Richard's table agreed to allow the two to play together, albeit with separate hands, provided that the other players at the table agreed as well. Richard asked them and received noncommittal shrugs, which he interpreted as approval.

"So here we go, Harry."

The dealer began to deal, giving Harry and Richard two cards each.

"So first," Richard began, whispering to Harry, "we bet on what we have in front of us. In other words, you bet based on what kind of hand you think you can form with these cards and the five cards that the dealer is going to put out as community cards."

Discreetly, Harry folded up the corners of his two cards to find a Jack and nine of spades. Richard saw this and nodded toward Harry's folded guide.

"Now what kind of hand do you think you could make with those cards? And what are the odds of the cards you need coming up? Remember, poker is basically a game of probability. You're betting on odds more than anything else. But you're also playing against everyone else too."

"Right," Harry replied. Cautiously, Harry pushed forward twenty dollars in chips.

"Twenty," he announced.

The first of his opponents did not even bother to play, and instead chose to fold immediately. The second player, however, decided to call Harry's bet. Richard, too, called Harry's bet.

The dealer then dealt three more cards, the five of hearts, the King of spades, and the ten of diamonds.

"Now we bet again," Richard lectured. "But now you have three more cards to use when you make your bet. We'll have another round with one more card then we'll bet again. Finally, we'll get one last card, then bet for the last time before showing our hands. If you don't think you can get a good hand, you can always fold, however, and not risk any more money."

With another look at his handy hand guide, Harry grinned at Richard. "Yeah but I don't think I will quite yet." He reached for his chips. "Fifty."

Unknown to Richard, however, Harry had already read Hermione's book on casino games prior to playing. However, he decided not to Richard's delusion of teaching him by telling him that, so he played along.

In spite of Harry's confidence, his remaining opponent raised him by another twenty dollars. This appeared to be too rich for Richard's blood, as he quickly folded.

"He's raised you, Harry. So you've got to figure out if your hand is worth another twenty dollars."

"It is," Harry replied quickly, tossing down a few more chips to call the raise.

Once again, the dealer placed another card on the table, this time the ace of spades. This did nothing to help either of Harry's potential hands.

"Check," he announced, causing Richard to look at him oddly. He didn't remember teaching Harry that trick.

Harry stared at his opponent menacingly as he waited for him to make his move. After eyeing Harry carefully for a moment, he too, checked, neglecting to bet.

Finally, the dealer dealt the fifth and final card, the six of spades. Instantly, Harry's heart leapt into his throat as he realized he had completed his hand.

"Ten," he called.

"A bit conservative there, eh Harry?" Richard whispered as they both looked at the remaining player.

Harry shrugged as his opponent raised the bet to twenty dollars.

The game shifted back to Harry, who raised the bet an extra ten dollars to a total of thirty.

The other player, whose eyes were obscured by a pair of sunglasses, eyed Harry carefully for a moment before placing a final ten dollars on the table.

"Sir, you've been called," the dealer told Harry, gesturing for him to show his hand. Harry looked at Richard, who nodded.

Tentatively, Harry flipped over his cards to reveal a flush; five cards that were all spades. The dealer reached over and pulled Harry's hand to the center of the table before looking at the other player expectantly. However, instead of flipping over his cards, Harry's opponent simply handed them to the dealer.

"Fold," the dealer announced, pushing the pot towards Harry.

Richard clapped Harry on the back as he pulled his winnings toward him. "Great job there, Harry!" he praised. "And on your first hand, too! Maybe you don't need my help after all?" He looked at Harry, playful accusation dancing in his eyes.

Harry gave Richard a guilty smile. "I might have read a bit about poker before coming down here," he admitted.

"Hey," Richard shrugged, "no harm in that. Ready for another hand, rich boy?"

"Anytime, anywhere," Harry retorted.

* * *

><p><em>July 28, 2011<em>

_10:27 PM_

_MGM Grand, Casino_

"Not bad for your first time, Harry," Richard said positively as the pair walked through the MGM casino toward their hotel. Despite Harry's success with the first hand, he did not go on to win the entire tournament, lasting nearly two hours before finally losing everything. Richard had lost all of his chips shortly before in a hasty all-in bet that ended up being notably unsuccessful.

Harry shrugged. "Yeah, but I kinda feel bad about losing all of your money," he replied.

"Don't!" Richard commanded. "We had fun, didn't we?" Harry nodded. "Then there's nothing to worry about. Did you expect to win everything on your first try?" Harry shook his head. "Then just accept the fact that we didn't expect to win in the first place and that we were just playing for fun."

"I guess…"

"Great! And at the very least we got to know each other a bit better, right?"

Harry nodded as they passed through the lobby at the base of their tower, heading toward the elevators.

"Then it was money well spent. I didn't care about the money, I cared about getting to know you, Harry. And I'd say we accomplished that, didn't we? So then back to the question you asked me when we left a couple hours ago…"

Harry held his breath as he waited for Richard's decision as to whether or not he could date Hermione.

"Like I said before, I've always wanted to play the nasty, hard-nosed father. But now that I've got the chance, I can't really bring myself to do it. Frankly Harry, I don't really have a problem with you. I've watched you and Hermione and I've noticed that you two are very close; she's happier when she's with you. I will admit, however, that I don't quite like the idea of another male competing with me for my daughter's affections. But I realize that I've reached that age when I can't expect anything less."

"I don't want to compete with you," Harry replied quietly as they exited the elevator on their floor. "If I'm lucky, I won't be competing with you for Hermione's affections; they're two different types of affection that we're dealing with."

Richard chuckled as they reached their respective doors. "You don't need luck to earn Hermione's affection, Harry. You've already got it. You just have to make your move."

"Trust me, it's coming."

End of Chapter 18

A/N: Thank you all for the reviews and input for chapter 17. While the reaction was somewhat more negative than I have received in the past, the complaints tended to come from those who dislike either fluff or angst. Following the failure of the first attempt at stealing the horcrux, it only makes sense for a slowdown in the story as we begin to ramp up for the end. With only three more chapters to go before the end of the story, things will pick up.

I want to congratulate the following reviewers for correctly guessing the title of this chapter: DragonShenron, osc630, and luvsanime02.

**Chapter Title Hint:** The next two chapters are the final two chapters of the story aside from the epilogue. As such, they are two songs that go together quite nicely. Chapter 19 was released as a B side to chapter 20 when they were originally released, and the two songs quickly found their way into Queen's live setlist, usually played in the same order that they are posted here at the end of every concert. These songs should be easy to guess, so I will not give further hints.

One thing that I do want to talk about is the pacing of the story. At least one review for the last chapter mentioned that the story was boring or had become a soap opera. Neither of those things were my intention, but everybody is entitled to their opinion and interpretation of the story. However, a major aspect of this story was supposed to be the development of the Harry/Hermione relationship, so naturally some slower points were to be expected.

Another thing that I wanted to mention is the future of this series. In the time since I last posted, I have had some very lengthy discussions with my betas regarding where the plot of this series is going. Originally, I planned for four stories in this series. However, following those discussions, that has been pared down to two: Stealing Time and Killing Time. What was going to be Playing Time, the second story, has been moved into a prologue to Killing Time with a few changes. The fourth part, Passing Time, has been removed entirely. While the plot of that story was an interesting one, we decided that it was simply not feasible to write in a convincing manner. Unfortunately, the elimination of that story means that certain plot elements hinted at in Stealing Time are now irrelevant. While I will do my best to tie up any loose ends that I can, there will, unfortunately, be some plot holes. However, I feel that this makes for a stronger series as it removes any unnecessary plot lines. In the end, we should get a leaner, meaner series that goes places that I've never seen Harry Potter go before (but I can't say that I've read every single HP story out there).

Another change that was made was the removal of any reference to the actual Harry Potter books in chapter 17. It was originally included for a myriad of reasons, but mainly as a hint towards a plot point in Playing Time. With that story moved and changed, that plot point was dropped. As it had no bearing on this story, I had no qualms about removing it. If you were one of the first to read chapter 17, you may have caught it, but it was removed within hours. I apologize for any confusion this may have caused, but it is the first time I have changed anything like this after posting.

So now, my friends, I must bid you farewell once again. I do hope that you will bear with me as this series transitions into its new form. The plot that we've come up with is slightly different from the one I originally envisioned, but I believe it to be more original and interesting. Hopefully you will agree with me when you read the story, which I have already started to write.

Thank you all again for your reviews and support. If you liked this chapter, please leave me a review telling me so! I will see you again soon with chapter 19.


	19. We Will Rock You

Chapter 19

**We Will Rock You**

_July 29, 2011_

_10:18 AM_

_The Merlin Resort and Casino_

Harry Potter stepped up to The Merlin for the second time in as many days to find that its appearance had once again changed dramatically overnight. Gone was the mass of emergency vehicles and guards at the doors. The central fountain was once again operationaland the reflection of the massive jets of water could be seen on the now-clear front glass doors. Despite this, there were still a handful of government officials milling around the outside of the resort. However, they seemed to be engaged in casual conversation rather than the deeper, official discussions of the day before.

As interesting as the changes were to Harry, his eyes were instantly trained on the lone individual standing against the front of the resort, out of the way and a good distance from the bank of glass doors. Immediately recognizing this person as Roger Daltrey, Harry strode briskly toward him, noting the black duffel bag in his hand as he approached.

"Did you get what I asked for?" Harry asked as soon as he was within range.

"Do you have any idea how illegal all of this is?" Daltrey retorted.

"Yep," Harry replied proudly. "So did you bring the stuff?"

"If I didn't know better, Potter, I would think you were soliciting me for illegal drugs. But to answer your question, yes, I did bring what you asked for." He nodded down at the conspicuous black duffel bag he was holding.

"Not very subtle, is it?" Harry asked.

Daltrey shrugged. "It gets the job done. Anyway, everything you asked for is here. You've got seven uniforms, which are basically just jumpsuits, and matching ID cards. Now, these cards are obviously magicalso all you have to do is press your thumb to the spot where the picture goes, and a picture will appear. If you're gonna use a disguisebe sure to put it on in advance as the picture will show exactly what you look like at that moment. Normally, these ID cards will also record a name at the same time, but I managed to get fake names put on these. Don't ask how I did that,you don't want to know what kind of strings I had to pull. And, like you asked, I got you an international portkey. This was the trickiest part of the whole thing. Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to try and get your hands on an unregistered international portkey? Those things are regulated to death!"

"But you managed to find one anyway?"

"Yeah, but it wasn't easy. It's actually the small roll of duct tape in the bag here. I thought that would be best in case you had to stretch it out so that several different people could use the portkey. Oh, and it's voice activated by a password."

"Which is?"

"America rules," Daltrey replied simply, grinning broadly as he handed Harry the bag. Harry rolled his eyes at the man's blatant hatred toward the Englishbut took the outstretched bag nonetheless.

"Trying to say something there, eh Daltrey?"

"Maybe," he answered. "But Potter, you're forgetting something. If you're gonna go down there disguised as MGC personnel, you won't be able to get into the vault. Remember, we don't have jurisdiction down there without resort approval. So either you're going to have to literally break into the vaultor this disguise won't work. And you'll have to make your move today, since the MGC is ending the investigation and pulling out later this evening."

"I'm already a step ahead of you there, Roger. Don't worry, we've got a plan."

"That's what I am worried about," he muttered.

"Don't," Harry reiterated. "We've got a plan**, **so we'll be able to get into the vault. And once we get into the vault, you'll be able to afterwards. Trust me, if everything pans out, you'll find your smoking gun down there. Thanks for this," he nodded toward the bag. "I'll be in touch." With that, Harry turned to leave.

"Potter?" Daltrey called out, causing Harry to stop. "Be careful."

"I will," Harry replied without turning around.

Harry then returned to The Signature, having made the journey to The Merlin on his own. The plan that had been tucked away in his mind for the past two days, shielded from all outsiders, was about to be revealed to the rest of the group for the first time. He only hoped that it would work.

As soon as Harry entered Minerva's room, he dropped the duffel bag on the floor heavily, causing all eyes to instantly turn to him. The room was full of every major player in their heist so far, with the exception of Severus Snape, who had excused himself following the botched first attempt at stealing the horcrux. Even Draco Malfoy was in attendance.

"What's in the bag?" Richard asked from his seat on the floor next to the armchair that held his wife.

"That," Harry began, "holds the key to stealing the horcrux."

"That doesn't tell us a lot, Potter," Draco drawled. "Now what's in the bag?"

"Hasn't anyone ever told you that patience is a virtue, Malfoy?" Harry jabbed.

"Yeah but I've never been considered virtuous, have I?" Draco retorted.

"Nope, I can't say you have. Anyway, we've got some goodies here in the bag to help us out, so let's take a look shall we?" Harry bent over and unzipped the bag before pulling out the mass of clothing with attached identification cards. He placed the uniforms on the table before speaking. "These are technician uniforms for the Magical Gaming Commission," he explained. "And these are how we're gonna steal the horcrux."

"You mean we're gonna disguise ourselves as government officials?" Sirius asked.

Harry nodded as he tossed a uniform to Sirius. They appeared to be simple dark gray zippered jacketsbut with the acronym MGC stitched onto the back in yellow lettering. A breast pocket was located to either side of the top of the zipper, with the identification card attached to the left one. Several pairs of standard black trousers were also included in the bag, presumably to be paired with the jackets.

"But they're just the tip of the iceberg," Harry continued. "I also got Mr. Daltrey to get us identification cards so that we can actually pass as technicians. But, best of all, we also have our very own unregistered international portkey." He held up the roll of duct tape to show the others. "So now we have an exit strategy… at least for some of us."

"What do you mean, for some of us?" Sirius asked warily.

Instead of answering, Harry turned his attention to Draco. "Malfoy, have you heard anything else about Voldemort being here?"

Draco shook his head. "I overheard one of my father's associates saying that he was gone." Everyone in the room let out a collective sigh of relief. "However, he has left one of his followers to watch over the vault following the incident the other day."

"Pettigrew, I'm assuming?" Harry asked.

"Right. Pettigrew's still here."

"Perfect!" Sirius exclaimed. "That little rat won't know what hit him once I'm done with him. Malfoy, you'd better get his location to us this time!"

"Hey! It wasn't my fault that I couldn't get it last time! I didn't even have a chance to talk to my father!"

"Well you'd better find out this timebecause I'm not leaving Vegas until I've gone rat hunting!"

"Harry, what does this have to do with the portkey?" Hermione asked.

"Sirius, Richard, you know how we talked about using an international portkey to get out of Vegas once everything was finished?" Both men nodded. "Well, that's kinda changed. See, it'll be really hard for Sirius and Remus to get out of The Merlin with Pettigrew in tow, let alone make it all the way back here. Snape said that there was an anti-portkey ward around The Merlin, right? But does anyone remember if he said whether it was just around the casino or around the entire resort?" Nobody spoke up. "Neither do I. I'm gonna assume, based on the fact that Lucius seems to use half-arsed security measures outside of the casino, that the hotel itself is not protected by anti-portkey wards. Sirius, Remus, you need to use the portkey to get back to Britain with Pettigrew. Take him to the Ministry. Prove Sirius's innocence."

"Wait, Harry! What about you?" Sirius objected.

"What about me? We'll be just fine. Even if you managed to get Pettigrew out of The Merlin without the portkey, where do you expect to hide him? Once you capture him, you need to get him out of the country as soon as possible. But we have the option of using the Gringotts system to hide whatever we steal. We can just deposit the horcrux into somebody's account and be done with it. All we have to do afterward is find a way out of the city, and we can use multiple planes to do that, like we talked about."

"So you want us to capture Peter and zip out of there as soon as we're done?" Remus asked. "But that'll put you down two people! How're you gonna pull of your heist then?"

"We'll have plenty of help," Harry responded. "In fact, that's the least of our problems. We've got to get into the vault itselfas well as knock out all of the security systems, which we weren't even able to do last time. So there are a lot of things we have to doand a lot of things that could go wrong. But I've got a plan."

"You keep saying that," Draco said, "but I've yet to hear this dastardly plan of yours."

"Patience, Malfoy, remember?"

"Now it just sounds like you're telling me to be patient to buy yourself more time, Potter! Do you actually have a plan this time? Or are you going to balls it all up like the last attempt?"

"I don't care what you think, Malfoy; we have a plan," Harry dismissed him, "Besides, I was talking to people who actually care about what I have to say. Now, Sirius, Remus, you take the portkey to get Wormtail. Malfoy, you'll have your own job if you still want us to steal the money too. The rest of you, you're with me."

_July 29, 2011_

_1:01 PM_

_The Merlin Resort and Casino_

Draco swallowed audibly as he stepped onto the casino floor of his father's Las Vegas resort. The appearance of the casino had changed dramatically over the course of the past two days, ever since a series of explosions had wreaked chaos on the décor. The flames that had licked at the walls had done considerable damage, igniting the wallpaper in several areas, forcing its replacement. However, the most damage had been done by the casino itself, as the sprinkler systems had caused a large amount of water damage to both the décor as well as gambling equipment.

Various parts of the casino floor were still roped off, inaccessible to anyone but authorized personnel due to the repairs that were still in progress. New slot machines were in the process of being installed by technicians from both the Magical and Nevada Gaming Commissions, while still others were waiting in the wings, covered by opaque plastic. Due to the fact that they were operating in the open, the MGC officials were disguised as traditional muggle technicians, albeit with different uniforms, which Draco recognized, even without the magical identification patches.

Despite the renovations, the population of the casino was still respectable as it appeared as though the panic from two days before had not had a permanent dampening effect on business at The Merlin. However, security on the casino floor had been increased considerably with each table now equipped with a guardand guards patrolling the active slot machine pods as well.

In the midst of the chaos on the casino floor, Draco spotted his father, Lucius, conversing with another well-dressed individual. Both men were dressed in traditional muggle suits. While it was somewhat odd for Lucius to dress in muggle attire, the fact that he was publically visible on the casino floor necessitated such clothing. Though both men seemed to be deep in conversation, Lucius's attention seemed to be focused elsewhereas Draco watched his gaze dart around the floor, from the technician on the ladder in front of him, working on the camera system, to the crew working on the wallpaper.

Inwardly, Draco smiled at how easily his father was distracted. That would make his job easier than he had expected.

Tightening his grip on the single piece of paper in his hand, Draco began to walk toward his father and his companion. He weaved his way around the inaccessible areas of the casino as he worked his way toward his father's position in the center. When he eventually reached the pair, he stopped just within earshot, acting as though he was waiting patiently.

"I can't believe that we have to use such primitive construction methods," Wallien complained covertly as he stood next to Lucius. "At the very least this should be the one instance where we should be allowed to use magic!"

"Quiet, you fool!" Lucius hissed. "Do you want to give us away? Our credibility with the magical government here is tatters already. We can't afford to lose any more of our standing with them by you shooting off your mouth!"

"Well I'm sorry for saying what I think!" Wallien growled. "I don't know how the Dark Lord expects us to be able to operate effectively with these handicaps!"

"Do not question the Dark Lord!" Lucius commanded quietly. "You have no idea who is listening! The Dark Lord may have left, but he has left his eyes and ears behind in Pettigrew, an animagus. Watch what you say and how you say it, otherwise it could get back to the Dark Lord!"

"He's still here? I haven't seen him since the Dark Lord left. What, has he kept himself locked up in his room?"

"You know Pettigrew," Lucius replied, "never willing to put anything on the line or try anything new. Of course, he doesn't let the Dark Lord see that, but the man is pathetic."

As soon as Lucius finished speaking, Wallien nodded silently toward Draco. Lucius turned to see his son waiting patiently, though upon seeing this, his demeanor instantly turned bored.

"What is it, Draco?" he asked.

Upon being recognized, Draco stepped closer. "One of those government blokes grabbed me and asked me to get you to sign this," he said, waving the paper slightly.

"What is itand why didn't he come and find me himself?"

"I dunno," Draco replied. "He said something about not being able to find you and that I was the first person he saw. Anyway, he told me to tell you that they were pretty much done with their investigation, but that they need to perform one final check on the security systems in order to re-certify the resort under MGC guidelines. He just needs your signature on this paper to do their diagnostic then they'll be… how did he put it? 'Out of your hair.'"

"Ugh," Lucius grunted. "I hate Americans; never can leave anything well enough alone. Give me that." He put his hand out expectantly. "I've signed too many of these bloody things today," he grumbled.

Draco handed Lucius the paper as well as a muggle ballpoint pen and held his breath. Lucius glanced at the paper briefly before bending down and quickly signing it on his upper leg. He then thrust the page back to Draco.

"Is that all?" Lucius asked expectantly as he turned his attention away from Draco.

Seeing his opportunity, Draco shook his head. "Actuallythat bloke from the MGC wasn't the only one who wanted me to pass along a message," he said. "I guess he didn't want to tell you directly, but Pettigrew complained to me about the food he's been getting from room service."

"He has, has he?" Lucius inquired with a sadistic smile

"Yeah, but I think he's a bit afraid of telling you directly, so that's why he told me. I'm not sure what he thinks I'll do about it beside tell youbut I just wanted to pass it along."

"What do you think?" Lucius asked, turning to Wallien.

The Merlin co-chairman's smile matched Lucius's. "I think that Mr. Pettigrew does not know what fine food really is. Perhaps we should show him?"

Lucius snorted quietly and nodded slightly. "Draco," he barked. "Go to the kitchen. Tell them that any orders from room 1005 need 'special' treatment. Tell them that I don't want them spitting in the rubbish bin in the kitchen… it's unsanitary. But I understand that sometimes people's throats get clogged and that accidents do happen… if you understand what I'm trying to say."

Draco stifled a laugh. "Yeah, I get it," he smiled. "Room 1005, right?" Lucius nodded. "Right, I'll pass that along." Draco spun on his heels and walked away, a broad smile still plastered on his face.

_July 29, 2011_

_1:41 PM_

_The Merlin Resort and Casino_

Harry, Remus, Sirius, and Richard emerged from the restroom just inside The Merlin, freshly disguised as MGC technicians. They had encountered no resistance making their way into the resortas the previous day's guards had seemingly abandoned the outside of the building. Harry, like Draco, had noticed the extreme changes to the interior of the casino as crews worked feverishly to complete repairs without the aid of magic.

Taking a deep breath, Harry led the way toward the door that had become so familiar to all members of the group: the one that led to the hallway containing the security office. However, as they approached the door, Draco came alongside the group and handed Harry the single sheet of paper that he had had Lucius sign earlier.

"Here's the paperwork," he said loudly. "I got my father to sign it and everything!"

"Erm… thanks kid," Harry replied tentatively, his graying brown hair making him appear at least twenty years Draco's senior. He made a conspicuous move to separate himself from Draco, which, in turn, meant that Sirius was now nearest to the blonde.

"Room ten-oh-five. Ohand he doesn't like the room service," Draco whispered as he walked past Sirius, making a show of leaving the group.

"He has to be the least stealthy person I've ever met," Harry joked quietly as they resumed their trek toward the door.

"Yeah, well, he did give us the information we needed," Sirius reminded Harry, clapping him on the back. "So this is where Moony and I go our own way. Good luck you lot."

Harry turned back to look at Sirius. "Sirius, use the portkey. Please. I don't need you going and doing something stupid and getting yourself in trouble. Just use it and be done with it, alright?"

"Whatever you say, kiddo," Sirius replied lightly.

"Just be careful, alright?" Harry begged, maintaining his false American accent, which they had all agreed to use. "I'll see you back home in a few days."

Sirius nodded before he and Remus split off from the rest of the group and began to make their way toward the elevators at the back of the casino. Harry, meanwhile, approached the guard standing near the door off of the casino floor.

"We're just here to run some final checks on the security systems," he said, waving the paper slightly for added credibility.

The guard looked at Harry's identification card closely before nodding and opening the door. Harry stepped through, followed by the others, and waited for the door to close behind them. He looked up to see that there was a camera positioned directly over the doorand another at the other end of the hall, providing complete camera coverage of the entire area.

"Cameras need to go," he muttered, earning a nod from Richard.

When compared to the activity on the casino floor, behind the scenes, The Merlin was oddly quiet. Harry thought that perhaps it was the fact that so many security guards had been reassigned to provide extra security for the casino that made the back of the house so quiet,but either way, he found it uncomfortable.

As further evidence that operations at The Merlin had been, at least temporarily, thrown into chaos by the failed attempt two days before, the door to the security office was propped open widely. Taking this as an invitation to walk right in, Harry did so, only to find that, as opposed to his visit two days before, nearly every station inside was occupied. The bank of servers along the back wall had been replacedbut were apparently still in the process of being installedas three in-house technicians were busy doing so.

The wall of monitors still hung prominently on the far end of the room, each of the screens displaying a different view of the casino floor. In fact, as the main center screen rotated through the many cameras, Harry swore he saw Lucius Malfoy on the casino floor, marking the first time that Harry had laid eyes on the elder Malfoy since he arrived in Las Vegas.

However, Harry's gaze was instantly drawn away by a large, imposing man standing in the center of the room. Upon first inspection, he reminded Harry of Kingsley Shaklebolt, in that he was a tall, broad-shouldered African man, dressed in a black pinstripe dress shirt and white tie. His bald head reflected the recessed lights in the ceiling as he played sentry over the entire operation in the security office.

"You guys are still here?" the man suddenly bellowed, spotting Harry and his companions.

Instantly, Harry froze, thinking that the man knew what they were doing. But then he realized that he was simply referring to the MGC as a whole, rather than Harry and the others in particular.

"We're almost done," Harry replied, thinking quickly. "Just a few more tests to do."

"More tests? What is it with you people and tests? We're pretty much back up and running already! All we've got left to do is finish cleaning up the casino, then everything'll be back to normal!"

"That may be, but we have rules we have to follow… I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name, Mr…"

"Baldrek," he replied. "Nathan Baldrek. I'm the head of security for this place, so trust me when I say that our security's never been tighter."

"Daniel Kanger," Harry said as he shook Baldrek's hand firmly. "Honestly though, Mr. Baldrek, I've got my orders, and we've got to do our checks before we can re-certify this place as legal."

"I didn't hear anything about some final test," Baldrek said. "And naturally, anything like that goes through me, since it'll involve my security systems."

"Well, I hate to break this to you, but you've been outranked," Harry informed him. "We've got authorization from Mr. Malfoy directly, giving us clearance to shut down the security systems… bit by bit, of course, and run a thorough diagnostic of them. We're also gonna check out the vault to make sure that it's still secure."

"What?" Baldrek exclaimed. "You can't go down to the vault!"

"Why not?" Harry inquired, feigning curiosity. "Got something to hide down there?"

"Of course not!" the security chief stammered. "You guys just don't have the right to go down there, that's all!"

"We do now," Harry boasted, waving the signed document in the air. "Mr. Malfoy gave us authorization to go down to the vaultand perform a check on the systems down there. You never know if there was some damage down there too."

"We already checked the vault!" Baldrek maintained. "You don't need to go down there."

"Oh, but we do. That is, you want us to go down there. Remember, we have to perform an investigation any time there is any indication of major criminal activity. If you don't want to lose your magical gaming licensethen you're gonna let us go down there to check everything out."

Baldrek ripped the page out of Harry's hand and studied it carefully.

"You'll find that everything's in order," Richard interjected from behind Harry.

"I'm gonna call Malfoy," Baldrek declared. "He'd never okay something like this, I'm sure of it."

At this declaration, Harry began to panic. But he was saved by Minerva. "You can call him," she said, "but that'll just waste more time. I can only imagine how much money this resort is losing bynot having a fully operational casino, not to mention the bad press and word of mouth. Call him all you want but do you really think Mr. Malfoy would take kindly to being interrupted just to have his judgment questioned? He'd be furious that you were delaying our investigation just to satisfy some little hunch, don't you think?"

Baldrek looked at Minerva and the others pensively as he weighed her comments. The last thing he wanted was to be blamed for delaying the full re-opening of the casino, especially considering the amount of potential revenue that the resort had already lost.

"How long will it take?" he asked apprehensively.

"Depends on what we find," Harry responded quickly, not wanting to commit to a particular schedule. "If all goes well, we should be out of your hair pretty quickly. But we can't be certain yet."

"So you have no idea?"

"Not really."

"Is there any way you could do it faster?" Baldrek inquired, trying to find a way to earn extra points with Lucius. If he could get the casino open to the general public faster, then he would be in a good position with the chairman.

"Maybe," Harry replied. "We have to shut down the security systems one by one to do the diagnostic, so if we do more than one at a time, then we might be able to get done faster. But I don't want to make that kind of assumption until we're ready to start."

"Whatever," Baldrek said as he folded up the paper and put it in his breast pocket. "I'm not happy about it but if Malfoy wants this, then who am I to question it?"

Harry shrugged and did not respond, not quite sure how to reply to Baldrek's comment.

"Well? Are you guys gonna get started?"

"Whenever you're ready," Harry replied cheekily.

"Well, I'm ready now," Baldrek said demandingly.

Harry shrugged. "Fine then. Charles, Sandra," he said, nodding to Richard and Ellen, "you two can run the diagnostics from here. Check out the camera system and the magical detectors. Oh, and look at the wards; make sure they weren't affected by the explosions."

"Sure thing," Richard acknowledged as Harry turned to leave. They had not discussed the wards beforehand, but feigning and examination of them as well only looked more convincing.

"Wait a sec!" Baldrek insisted suddenly. "You're taking some of my people with you."

Harry's head spun so quickly that Hermione was afraid it would come off. "What?" he stammered.

"Some of my guys. They're coming with you."

Harry was unprepared for this, and Hermione knew it, so she leapt to her best friend's rescue.

"Are you sure that's such a good idea?" she asked. "I mean, are you sure you won't need the extra help on the floor when we shut down the cameras?"

Baldrek's eyes narrowed as he sized Hermione up carefully. "No," he said slowly, talking down to Hermione. "We're not even open to the public; only resort guests. So I hardly think that two fewer guards are gonna make much of a difference. I'd rather have them watching over the vault than the casino floor."

_Bugger_, Harry thought. _How're we gonna get out of this one?_ He glanced over to Hermione, who looked to be trying with all her might to keep a panicked look from her face. _I've gotta fix this_, Harry resolved.

"Your call," he said finally. "We're fine with it either way."

"Good," Baldrek snapped, crossing his arms. "Tankar! Hamlin!" he barked. "You're up! Escort these people down to the vault!"

Instantly two of the individuals who had been occupying work stations jumped to their feet before flanking Harry and his companions on either side. Seeing this out of the corner of his eye, Harry could consciously feel a sense of dread creeping up from his stomach. This was not something that he had planned for and now he would have to think on his feet to try and come up with a way to get around this predicament.

With a heavy sigh, Harry resolved to figure out his solution on the way to the vault. "Let's go, you two," he said to Hermione and Minerva. "Let's get this over with. You two," he added, directing his attention to the elder Grangers, "keep your ear out for your radio. I'll let you know when we're ready for you to shut down each system, alright?" Richard and Ellen nodded as Harry turned, once more, to the door.

As soon as the trio, along with their two escorts, exited the security office, the two resort employees began to complain.

"Oh, boy! Now I feel like I've arrived," the young male guard, Hamlin, whined. "I took this job to bust thievesnot babysit government tools!"

"Oh, quit your whining, kid!" his companion, a woman who apparently went by the name Tankar, chided. "Just because you're spending a few minutes doing something you don't want doesn't mean the whole job's crap!"

"Easy for you to say," Hamlin retorted. "You've been here forever! You've gotten used to it!"

"That doesn't even make sense!"

Harry rolled his eyes in annoyance as he looked over to Hermione. She simply shook her head as she stifled a chuckle. Watching the two guards bicker, Harry realized that it would be quite easy, at least morally, for him to dispose of them. _I can't quite stun them; they'll probably be in contact with that Baldrek bloke the whole time, so that won't work. What about…_

He pulled out his radio and turned it on. "Are you guys there?" he called.

"Loud and clear," Richard replied.

"That's not what I asked, Chuck," Harry chuckled, shortening Richard's alias. "I asked if you were there, not if you could hear me."

"Oh, shut up," Richard joked.

"You guys all set up?"

"Close, but not quite. I'll be honest, this place is a bit of a mess. No offense," he added, talking to someone else on the other end. "But we'll get over it and we'll be ready in a few minutes. Call us when you get down to the vault, alright?"

"Right," Harry replied as he shut off the radio. He put the radio back in his pocket just as the group reached the elevator at the end of the hall. Tankar slid her keycard through the reader and waited a moment for the elevator doors to slid open. Once the troupe had clustered inside the small compartment, she bent over and looked directly into a tiny lens next to the door. A moment later, the doors closed and the elevator began to descend into the depths of the Earth.

_July 29, 2011_

_1:47 PM_

Sirius and Remus stepped off of the elevator on the tenth floor of The Merlin, having used the trip to transfigure their clothing from MGC uniforms to a traditional double-breasted white kitchen tunic. Remus had picked up on Draco's comment about Pettigrew's alleged dislike for room service, and planned to use that to their advantage.

"Room 1005, right?" Sirius asked as they stepped into the hall. He took note that this hall seemed to deviate from the décor of the rest of the resort, focusing more on a silver and gold motif, as demonstrated by the green wallpaper with a faint silver hatch pattern. The carpet, too, fell into the same pattern, sporting a dark emerald color. "Would you look at that?" Sirius added. "Looks like a bloody Slytherin palace!"

"You mean a snake pit?" Remus countered.

"That works too," Sirius chuckled.

"But remember who owns this place. Does it really surprise you?"

"Not really," Sirius replied absently, distracted by the fact that they had just passed room 1004.

"Don't do anything rash," Remus reminded. "The last thing we need is to make a mistake with this. We've got a chance to take him once and for allso we don't want to throw that away."

"You think I don't know that?" Sirius snapped. "That rat in there is the reason I've had to live in the shadows the past few years, not to mention the years I spent in Azkaban. Normally I'd say that I want to commit the murder I was sent to prison forbut times have changed."

"You mean you had a talk with Harry?"

"Where'd you hear that?" Sirius asked in surprise.

"Richard told me," Remus replied. "Said something about you seeming a bit different after you talked with Harry the other day. So naturally, I put two and two together."

"And for some reason you always manage to get four," Sirius muttered as they stopped in front of room 1005. "Ready?" he whispered.

"Are you?"

Instead of answering, Sirius knocked on the door and waited. He held his breath as the two living Marauders waited for their excommunicated third member to greet them. And they did not have to wait long, as a pair of clicks soon signaled the impending appearance of Peter Pettigrew.

An instant later, a short, portly man opened the door and poked his head out nervously. "Yes?" he asked, his eyes shifting between the two newcomers anxiously.

"Can we come in?" Remus asked politely, attempting to disguise his voice.

"Why?" Peter asked. "Who are you?"

"We just wanted to discuss some problems with your recent food orders," Sirius explained, also hiding his true voice.

"Orders? I haven't had any problems with the food so far," Peter replied, his eyes narrowing.

"Maybe you haven't noticed," Remus interjected, thinking quickly. "But we here at The Merlin pride ourselves on serving only the highest quality food. Unfortunately, we have found out that one of the dishes you recently received may have been subpar. We simply wanted to talk to you about it and get your take on how we might be better able to improve our food."

"Like a survey then?" Peter asked.

_Oh, how gullible can you be, Peter?_ Sirius groaned inwardly. "Exactly!" he replied verbally.

Peter poked his head out of the door farther and surveyed the hallway to either side. "Alright, I've got a minute," he said quickly, as he opened the door wider to invite his former friends inside.

As Peter turned his back to Sirius and Remus, the latter two shared a brief glance before following him inside the dimly lit room.

As Sirius and Remus were used to the spacious rooms of The Signature, both were somewhat taken aback by the relatively small size of Peter's room. Despite the fact that the room was approximately ten by five meters in size, it appeared far smaller, due to the large bed in the center of the room, as well as the fact that the heavy green drapes were drawn, casting the entire room into shadow. However, Sirius and Remus could see that the color scheme in the room matched that of the hall outside, with the Slytherin colors of green and silver. Even the bedcovers seemed to blend into the two-tone décor.

Sirius glanced behind himself to make sure that Remus had closed the door, watching as the latter discreetly slid the lock into place.

"Still as moronic as ever, eh Peter?" Sirius asked, no longer disguising his voice.

Instantly, Peter spun around, only to come face to face with a pair of drawn wands.

"What is this?" Peter yelled, his voice cracking.

"Would you do the honors?" Sirius asked Remus, glancing at his friend briefly.

"With pleasure, good sir," Remus replied, training his wand on himself. "Finite," he whispered, before doing the same to Sirius.

Upon seeing his former cohorts, Peter jumped back slightly and cowered. "Remus! Sirius!" he exclaimed, trying desperately to sound pleased to see them. "What're you doing here?"

"Oh don't give us that, Peter," Sirius groaned, his wand never wavering. "I should just blow your brains onto the wall right now and be done with it! For that matter, I should have done that years ago. Merlin knows I've had plenty of chances."

"What if we made it look like he struggled?" Remus suggested. "Or even an accident?"

"What! No!" Peter cried. "I'll... I'll do anything! I'll tell you everything I know about the Dark Lord and what he's planning! Please, Moony-"

"Stupefy!" Remus bellowed, snapping his wand at Peter. The jet of light slammed into Pettigrew, throwing him backward into the glass coffee table a meter behind him. His head crashed against the sharp metal of the corner of the table as he fell to the ground, unconscious. "You don't have the right to call me Moony," Remus growled.

"Hey!" Sirius yelled. "That was my job! I was supposed to be the one to curse him!"

"You would have killed him!"

"Pity you stayed my hand… But you know full well I wasn't going to kill him; he's my ticket to freedom! I just wanted to scare him a bit, that's all!"

"Oh shut it, Padfoot, and help me get him up. We've gotta get outta here."

Sirius stepped over Peter and looked down at him pathetically.

"Are you gonna help him?" Remus asked, taking note of the small trail of blood that was leaking from the back of Peter's head.

"Is he gonna live?"

"Yes…"

"Then no," Sirius replied curtly. "A little concussion never hurt anyone."

Remus snorted as he hefted Peter's prone form onto his shoulder. "You gonna help me?" he asked. With a sigh, Sirius crouched down and took Peter by the other arm onto his shoulder. "Now get the portkey."

"I know what to do!" Sirius snapped good-naturedly as he pulled the small roll of tape. "You wanna do the honors?"

Remus shook his head. "Nah, this is for you. If this is what you want to do: risk exposing yourself with the hope that you might be able to clear your name, then that's your call. I'm not gonna take that away from you."

"You mean you just don't want to take responsibility?" Sirius joked. "But no," he added, "I get where you're coming from, and thanks for that. You ready for this?"

"I'm gonna stand behind you with this, helping your case as much as I can, so I guess I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

"Such optimism." Sirius took a deep breath. "Alright, let's do this." He looked at the portkey. "America rules." Instantly, Sirius and Remus closed their eyes in anticipation.

But nothing happened.

Remus looked at Sirius frantically. "Are you sure you said it right?"

Sirius shook the portkey uselessly. "I said it just like Harry told me. America rules!" he tried again, shouting this time. But once again, nothing happened.

"Why isn't it working?" Sirius asked, panicking slightly.

"Are you sure it's actually a portkey?"

"I'm just going off of what Harry told me, and I trust him. Where'd Snivellus say the anti-portkey wards ended?"

"They were only around the casino… I thought," Remus mused concernedly.

"America rules!" Sirius cried once more, to no avail.

"I think we might have extended wards to deal with," Remus offered.

"Bugger."

_July 29, 2011_

_1:53 PM_

Richard Granger glanced at his watch before turning his attention back to the screen in front of him. In an attempt to seem concerned about security at the vault, Richard had used his console to change the display on the main center screen to the camera just outside the massive vault door. On one of the peripheral screens, he was also displaying one of the viewpoints inside the vault as well, complete with an excellent view of the locked, gated cages containing the resort's cash holdings. However, unbeknownst to everyone else in the room aside from Ellen, Richard was secretly recording from this camera.

"Well?" a voice asked from behind Richard. Richard spun in his wheeled chair to find Nathan Baldrek standing behind him, arms crossed, despite the fact that Richard was seated in the narrow front row of consoles.

"Well what?" Richard countered, standing his ground.

"What have you found out?" Baldrek elaborated snappily.

"Nothing," Richard replied curtly. "We've only just got here. You can hear them over the radio just as well as I can, so you know that they aren't even to the vault yet, so obviously we haven't started yet."

"Whoa! Lay off there, little man-"

"Little man? LITTLE MAN? Where do you get off talking to me like that? If you want to have a pissing contest, that's fine! But I'll make sure this place has its license revoked in a heartbeat if you go down that road! So do you want to let me do my job? Or do you want to be out of yours?"

Baldrek did not respondbut instead turned and walked back up to the top of the room, steaming.

Ellen, meanwhile, nodded her head approvingly. "Well done," she whispered to her husband, sitting less than a meter away at the next station. "Maybe now we'll have a bit of breathing room."

"I could tell he was an arse the moment I laid eyes on him. It doesn't help matters any that his own people hate him; I found that out when I wandered down here the other day."

At that moment, Richard's radio crackled to life. "You two there?" Harry's voice asked from the small speaker.

"Where else would we be?" Richard joked.

"Actually enjoying yourselves for once!" Harry laughed.

"I'll have you know that we're enjoying ourselves now," Ellen said, leaning over to the radio. "The company here is quite… interesting."

"I can't wait to hear the story," Harry replied. "But we're just now getting out of the elevator-"

"I can see you coming into view now," Richard announced, looking at his monitor.

"Get ready to open the vault," Harry instructed, as he and the others approached the large steel door.

"Will do, Dan," Richard said, his voice hissed from the speaker in Harry's hand.

After stepping out of the elevatorHarry, Hermione, and Minerva had come face to face with the vault floor for the first time. Stretching out from the elevator, the stark white hall matched the corridors above, though the blue and gray checkered laminate flooring set it apart from its upstairs brethren. Roughly ten meters ahead of the elevator, the hall split to the right, leading somewhere that Harry could not see. However,his attention was more focused on the current hall's abrupt terminus five meters beyond the intersection. There, at the end of the hall, was a massive wall of stainless steel, completely bare of all distinguishing markings with the exception of three oversized hinges on the left side, each roughly six inches in diameterand a half meter in length. The vault door took up the entirety of the end of the hall, the dimensions of which were, by Hermione's educated estimation, roughly five meters square.

"That's a bloody big door," Harry muttered, earning a reminder elbow from Hermione. _Right, watch the language_, he reminded himself, albeit with her help.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see a pair of cameras, one pointing toward the vault door, one pointing away, toward the elevator. A small red light was lit in the bottom right corner of each, indicating that they were both fully operational.

"Cameras look good down here," Harry said, calling once again to Richard and Ellen.

"We could tell," Richard joked from the other end.

"Hey! I'm just doing my job! I've gotta check out all of the cameras I see!" Harry responded with faux defensiveness.

"Whatever you say, Dan. I'm just up here trying to make this go as fast as possible for this place. I don't want to be here anymore than they want meso we might as well get this done as soon as possible."

"Then shut the whole place down at once then once you open the vault!" Harry suggested. "If they have the security staff to handle it, we can get out of here in one fell swoop. So if they're okay with it, we can play it that way."

"Hold on a second, lemme talk to the big fella," Richard said, throwing in a sprinkling of American slang for good measure.

"What is it now?" a quiet voice seeped from the speaker. Harry could only assume it was Baldrek, who was speaking from the background. "The whole thing?" the voice asked after Richard had explained the situation impatiently. "Are you joking me? You want me to go without cameras, without wards, without anything? For how long?"

"Dan?" Richard asked, once again speaking to Harry. "How long would you need?"

Harry glanced over to Hermione, whose eyes were rolled up in their sockets as she performed mental arithmetic. After a moment, she mouthed the word 'five.'

"That's up to you," Harry said into his radio. "I'm gonna need about six minutes to run my diagnostic in the vault. And I'll need to use magic for that so we can't have those detectors up at the same time."

"Well, lucky for you," Richard began, "the cameras are gonna take about seven minutes to check out. Detectors, nine minutes. Wards, four minutes. So I'll shut those down last if you want to check them out from down there." Harry knew that Richard had no way of convincingly checking out wards, as he was a muggle, so it made sense that he was pawning the responsibility off on Harry and the others.

"Fine," Harry responded. "Just let me know when you're ready to go otherwise I'm gonna find myself flat on my back down here."

"Oh stop being so dramatic!" Ellen chastised, her voice much quieter than that of her husband.

"What? I was just telling the truth! But whenever you're ready, I am."

"Alright," Richard announced, "I'm opening the vault now."

Instantly, a faint grinding sound began to echo throughout the hallway, though the vault door experienced no visible change. The groaning continued, now accompanied by audible clicks, until finallythe vault door began to slowly open out toward the group.

As the door opened, Harry and the others were given their first glimpse inside the fabled vault, only to find that their view was blocked by a set of thick steel bars, which reflected the hall's pure white lights brilliantly.

"Well there's a nice bit of security," Harry observed quietly. "It's like a ruddy prison!"

"Be nice," Hermione whispered good-naturedly. "Now how about the bars?" she asked louder, grabbing the radio from Harry.

"I'm working on it," her father responded. "Give me a sec."

A moment later the great metal bars slid open, retracting into the ceiling and granting full access to the vault. Harry walked up to the opening cautiously, passing the small, secondary hall, which only seemed to contain a single door at the far end.

"What's down there?" he asked Hamlin.

"Count room," the guard replied shortly.

"I see," Harry mused, not at all understanding what his companion had said. He then retrieved the radio from Hermione, who was standing at his other side, before pressing the talk button. "We're ready down here," he said. "Whenever you're ready, start to shut it down."

"We're gonna do it all at once," Richard informed him. "The… _esteemed_ Mr. Baldrek has, in his infinite wisdom, granted us clearance to do it. Said something about wanting to be rid of the government once and for all. Of course, his words weren't quite so poetic, but you get the idea."

"Yeah," Harry chuckled, "I think I do." He glanced over to the two guards, who were rolling their eyes. Obviously, they agreed with the portrayal of Baldrek, if Richard's tale of the disgruntled guard in the break room was to be believed.

"So the vault's open," Richard reiterated. "So I'm gonna have them shut down the detectors and basically do a reboot of them. You know as well as I do that we can't do much to test them while they're downbut we can do magic while they're down and when they're back up to test them," he added, more for the benefit of those on the other end of the radio.

Harry knew as well as Richard that there was no way that they could test either the wards or magical detectors. Howeverit was vital to their plan thatat the very least, the magic detectors were down. Taking down the wards was simply an extra meant to make the entire charade seem more credible. The fact that they could not really test those two components of the security systems meant that they would constantly have to come up with reasons to take them down, as Richard was currently doing.

"Whatever you have to do," Harry concurred, "do it."

"Right; shutting down the detectors now then," Richard announced. "Wait for it, wait for it… alright, they're down."

"Alright, Mabel," Harry began, turning his attention to Minerva, "let's get started."

Harry led the way into the vault before stopping just inside the door. The room was perfectly square, with stark white walls that matched the hallway outside. However, only the tops of the walls were visible, as the bottom two-thirds of the three meter high walls were taken up by large metal shelves, which were closed off by a thick metal grate. Three of the four walls were covered by these shelves, with the exception being the wall opposite the door, which was completely barren aside from a single slate gray door in its center. To the right of this door was a small hole that appeared to be only large enough for a single finger.

As Harry's eyes swept around the room, stopping on the mysterious door, Hermione and Minerva seemed to be more interested in the contents of the secure shelves. Behind each gratebundles of bills could be seen, the sum total of which was too high to count.

"Keep an eye on the cameras," Richard's voice suggested from the radio. "I'm about to shut them off."

"Gotcha," Harry replied, his eyes flicking up to one of the two cameras in the vault, each positioned in opposite corners. "They're still on."

"That's because I haven't turned them off yet!" Richard snapped playfully. "But now I have," he added. "At… 2:09. The detectors went down at 2:07, and the cameras at 2:09. Remember that."

"Got it," Harry said, glancing at his wristwatch. He had seven minutes before the cameras would automatically come back online, and the same seven minutes until the magic detectors came back. They now had free reign of the vault for seven minutes.

As soon as Richard ended his call, Harry pocketed the radio and grabbed Hermione by the arm.

"Come on," he whispered, turning to face the two guards.

Hamlin and Tankar, apparently disinterested by the proceedings, had remained outside of the vault, standing together near the split in the hallway. With their backs turned slightly to the vault, neither one of them had a clear view of the inside of the vault.

As they crept toward the two guards, Harry elbowed Hermione lightly to get her attention. He nodded to his free left arm, which was slowly withdrawing his wand from a deep pocket in his jumpsuit. Harry then nodded toward Hermione, indicating that she should follow his lead.

_How is it that I understand what he's trying to say?_ Hermione thought, with a mental roll of her eyes. However, she drew her wand as Harry had suggested, just as the two reached the vault door.

With neither guard paying attention, Harry aimed his wand at Hamlin, while hinting for Hermione to do the same to Tankar.

"Confundus," he whispered.

Hermione's eyes went wide for a split second, but she instantly realized what Harry was doing. She whispered the confusion charm at her target, following Harry's example.

Instantly, the two guards stood up straight and remained motionless for a moment before shaking their head and looking around in confusion.

"What're you two doing?" Harry asked, hiding his wand quickly. "You were supposed to be going over the count room over there with a fine tooth comb! What do you think you're doing out of there so soon? Baldrek said you were supposed to be in there until someone came to get you! Do you want to get in trouble with him?"

Rather than respond, both Hamlin and Tankar looked at Harry in confusion before shrugging. They then walked down the small secondary hall before disappearing behind the lone door at the end.

"I can't believe you did that!" Hermione giggled.

"You meant to say that you can't believe it worked, right?"

"Well… in not quite so many words…" she replied with a smile.

"Well it did," he retorted jokingly. "But now we've only got a few minutes. Let's get this done."

He led Hermione back into the vault only to find that Minerva was still insideand had begun to open the cages. Paper-wrapped bundles of hundred dollar bills were floating through the air into a trio of unmarked black, mokeskin duffel bags, which were lying open on the floor.

As Minerva busied herself with the cashHarry and Hermione silently approached the door at the far end of the vault, side by side. They stood for a moment in front of the door in silence, as Harry stared at the door absently. Glancing over at her best friend, Hermione reached over and laced her fingers through his, giving his hand a light squeeze in support.

"It'll work, Harry," she whispered. "You can do this."

Harry gave her a small smile. "I know I can," he replied. "I just can't believe we're here… that it's worked so far. It's just surreal. But," he added, louder, "enough of that. Let's do this."

He stepped forward and stopped in front of the small hole to the right of the door.

"Looks like a fingerprint reader," Hermione observed, remained steadfastly at Harry's side.

"Well, there's only one way to find out," Harry declared. He tentatively put his right index finger into the hole before stopping about an inch in. Taking a deep breath, he plunged it in the remaining half inch.

"Ow!" he hissed, yanking his finger out of the shallow hole and sticking it in his mouth. Sucking on the tip of his finger briefly, he stepped back from the reader and waited.

Less than ten seconds later, the nondescript, meter wide metal door slid open to the left, retracting into a pocket in the wall. As the door slid open, Harry and Hermione were greeted by a small, one meter square room lit by a single recessed can light in the center of the ceiling. This spotlight shone down, casting a single shaft of light on a small, circular raised pedestal in the center of the nook. However, it was what was on the pedestal that grabbed Harry and Hermione's attention.

There, sitting alone on the waist-high pedestalwas a glistening gold goblet. Made of pure goldthe cup looked to be inlaid with black diamondswhich framed an elegant carving of a badger. A pair of narrow handles sprouted from the base of the vessel before curling majestically at the top.

"Merlin's beard," Hermione whispered, "that's Helga Hufflepuff's cup!"

"Okay…" Harry replied skeptically. "How can you tell?"

"I've only seen drawings of it in books," she explained. "But the badger gives it away. And see the gems? The black diamonds are supposed to go together with the gold cup, representing the colors of Hufflepuff house. It's all here! I can't believe I'd ever see it!"

"Don't get too excited," Harry warned. "That's supposed to have a piece of Voldemort's soul, remember?"

"How's it going, you two?" Richard's voice crackled from Harry's pocket.

Harry pulled out the radio and pressed the button on the side. "We're getting there," he replied noncommittally. "What's going on up there?"

"I'm just now having them shut down the wards at… 2:12. They should take about four minutes to come back up and then we'll test them from up here."

Harry looked over to Minerva, who was now more than halfway through emptying the cages. "We're almost done down here," he told the elder Grangers. "We'll be done in a few minutes then we'll meet you up there."

"Will do, Dan," Richard said, signing off once again.

As Richard closed the channel, Hermione reached out toward the cup. Harry instantly pulled her hand away. "Don't touch it!" he exclaimed. "You don't know what'll happen!"

"Oh, come off it, Harry," she replied flippantly. "Nothing's gonna happen if I touch it! Ginny was able to touch the diary just fine!"

"Yeahand it ended up possessing her," he reminded her. "I would've thought you'd remember that."

"So then how do you want to get it out of there?" she challenged.

"I'll grab it," he suggested with a carefree shrug.

"What? If I can't grab it, what makes you able to grab it?"

"Well, somebody has to," he reasoned. "Might as well be me. I just don't want you risking yourself for something like this."

"But you can? That doesn't make any sense!"

"It doesn't have to make sense! Just trust me on this, alright? I can't have you putting yourself in any kind of danger! Not when I'm here instead!"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him as Minerva, in the background, smiled as she worked. "So you're saying I need to be rescued?" Hermione pressed.

"I didn't say that!" Harry answered. "But I thought you wanted to be rescued… like in those books," he added in a whisper.

Hermione's eyes went wide as he mentioned her cheap romance books. She quickly glanced back at Minerva to make sure that her favorite professor had not heard, only to find that the older woman was busy finishing up her task.

"Anyway," Harry continued softly, "I don't want to fight with you. I just… care too much about you to have you risk this. I can't believe we're even arguing about something so petty, too." To back up his point, he reached out swiftly and grabbed the cup by the stem, picking it up. "There. Now that's done," he added.

"Always have to be the big, strong man," Hermione chuckled darkly, rolling her eyes.

"Yep, that's me," Harry joked. "Now come on, we haven't got much time left." He shoved the cup into one of the black bags just as the last bundle of bills floated off of the shelf and into the bag. As Harry looked around the room, he was struck with how empty it now lookedwith all of the shelves open and barren. "Wait," he added, bending down and picking up one of the bundles of cash. "Minerva, can you duplicate this?" He looked to see that the bundle consisted of ten thousand dollars in hundred dollar bills. "Say… ten thousand times or soto fill the shelves again?"

"Why, Harry?" Hermione asked. "Wouldn't that just give them back the money we just took?"

"No," Minerva answered for Harry. "It would only give them ten thousand dollars back. Excellent thinking, Harry," she praised.

Realization struck Hermione like a crushing blow. "Oh! The serial numbers!" she exclaimed. "That's brilliant! All of the numbers will be the sameso they won't be able to use the money… not if they don't want to get in troublethat is."

"And wouldn't it be interesting if they _did_ get in trouble?" Harry suggested. "I mean, it would be quite convenient if a government investigation came down here and found counterfeit bills, wouldn't it?"

"Oh, Harry! That's brilliant!" Hermione praised. "But how's the MGC gonna find out about the theft if it still looks like there's money down here?"

"Well, there is that," Harry admitted as he glanced at his watch to find that it was now 2:14. _Two minutes to go_, he thought. "Eh, it wasn't part of the plan to begin with so forget it. Richard recorded what the vault looked like full, remember? So that'll buy us the time we need. I would have loved to make life that much more miserable for Lucius though."

"Maybe we can…" Hermione suggested quietly, eyeing the empty inner vault.

Harry followed her line of sight and smiled as he realized what she was suggesting. They just had to act quickly.

_July 29, 2011_

_2:11 PM_

"America rules!" Sirius repeated angrily as the elevator ground to a halt. Once again, nothing happened. Deciding that they had to get away from the anti-portkey wardsthey had dragged Peter down the hall and to the elevator. Along the way, they had passed one couple who appeared to be on the way to their room so Sirius and Remus had claimed that Peter had had too much to drink and that they were helping him out of the resort. While that had, at one time, been a common occurrence for the Marauders, neither Sirius nor Remus had expected to replay such events with Peter ever again.

As the elevator doors opened to reveal the casinoSirius once again hefted Peter up onto his shoulder as Remus did the same. They had not bothered to recast the glamour charms on themselves, as they realized that they would be dispelled by the wards as soon as they reached the casino floor. Realizing that they would be exposed as long as they were in the casino, Sirius and Remus had resolved to move across the floor as quickly as possible to get out of the resort and away from the wards. It was now time for that mad dash.

"Alright," Sirius breathed as he took the first step out of the elevator. Remus followed suit, supporting the other side of Peter as the two made their way down the right side of the elevated platform that held the elevator doors.

They weaved their way around the various pods of slot machines, making an effort to stay on the outside of the casino to avoid attracting attention; despite the fact that they were, in essence, dragging an unconscious man around.

"He had a bit too much to drink," Sirius explained for the third time as a nearby gambler stared at them. "Gotta get him some fresh air and he should be fine."

As they shuffled along, they took note of the renovations that were taking place in the casino. Several individuals were perched on ladders and hanging wallpaper, especially near the cashier cages. Still others were busy removing stools and bringing in replacements as the originals had been damaged by the water from the sprinkler system. All of this was quite interesting to the Marauders, however they kept their attention focused ahead, trying to appear as inconspicuous as possible. However, by focusing their attention ahead, they missed one key sight.

Lucius Malfoy.

The chairman of The Merlin stood near the poker lounge, deep in conversation with a pair of companions including his co-chairman Andrew Wallien.

"I can't wait until these government wankers are gone," Wallien groaned, watching as a member of the Nevada Gaming Commission finished examining a slot machine. "I just get the feeling that they're always watching."

"They are," Malfoy agreed. "All the more reason to put on a good show while they're here. You wondered why we extended the anti-apparition and anti-portkey wards? Well there's you answer. Same thing goes for the glamour ward. You can't walk onto the property… anywhere, without it dispelling the charm; it's not just the casino anymore."

"But they'll go back to normal once they're gone, right?"

"Of course. I'm not about to let some ruddy Americans tell me how to make my money." As he finished speaking, he saw a strange sight out of the corner of his eye. "What the…?" he muttered as he turned his head to get a better view.

There, on the outskirts of the slot machines, was the prone figure of Peter Pettigrew being dragged by his two former friends, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin.

"Black!" Lucius hissed. "It's Black!"

"Black?" Wallien asked. "You mean Sirius Black? He's here?"

"And he's dragging Pettigrew away with that werewolf friend of his!" Lucius growled, pushing the others out of the way and moving toward the trio. "Get security!" he barked.

As Malfoy and Wallien's companion rushed away to do so, Lucius waded his way through the casino tables. "Black!" he yelled over the din of the casino. "Black!"

Instantly, Sirius and Remus froze, as the former turned slightly to see Malfoy running toward them. "Oh bugger," Sirius groaned. "Come on!" He hefted Peter higher onto his shoulder as he began to move faster than ever through the casino. However, as they approached the lobby, a quartet of security guards blocked their path, forming a line that cut off access to the front doors.

Sirius turned to see Malfoy still approaching, now only a few meters away. He pulled out the roll of tape and said a silent prayer before speaking. "Once more unto the breach," he muttered. "America rules!"

In an instant, Sirius, Remus, and Peter disappeared with a faint pop, just as Malfoy reached them.

"Find them!" he shouted, the vein in his left temple bulging angrily.

Wallien rushed over to his boss's side as the guards scrambled to follow his orders. "Where'd they go?" the co-chairman asked.

"Damned if I know," Malfoy growled. "It looked like they used a portkey. But that's impossible; we've got wards in place to prevent that."

"Are they working though?" Wallien asked.

But Lucius did not answer. Instead, his mind was working rapidly, trying to figure out how Sirius and Remus had made their way out of his resort. "Wait!" he declared suddenly. "If Black was here then that blasted Order can't be far behind. Find them!"

Wallien nodded as he clambered to do exactly that, leaving Lucius alone in the middle of the casino floor. "You're a dead man, Black," he promised.

_July 29, 2011_

_2:17 PM_

Harry, Hermione, and Minerva stepped off of the elevator next to the security office, shrunken duffel bags in their pockets. Their two guards, Hamlin and Tankar, followed close behind, the memory of the past ten minutes freshly wiped from their minds. Minerva had suggested that it would not do to have them remember being sequestered in the count room outside of the vaultso she had suggested obliviating them before the magic detectors had come back online. All they now remembered was riding the elevator down to the vault before riding it back up again.

Harry took a deep breath as he stepped into the hall, realizing for the first time that they were incredibly close to accomplishing their mission. Howeverhe was also intensely aware that one mistake, one slip up now**, **could throw the entire plan into chaos. He tried to maintain his composure and keep his excitement to a minimum as he let Tankar slide her keycard through the reader next to the security office doorand open the door for the others.

"You two about done?" Harry asked Richard and Ellen nervously as the trio walked into the room.

"Just finishing up now, Dan," Ellen replied, tapping at the keyboard nonsensically for good measure. "We've got the cameras back up and running; looks like everything is working great with those. We even had Mr. Baldrek here summon a book from the shelf over there once the detectors came back up."

"I didn't hear any alarm go off," Harry pointed out.

"We shut it down before it could do anything," Richard replied. "But either way, those things are working. And after basically rebooting the wardswe tried to apparate out of herebut that didn't work either." Harry snorted quietly at this, realizing that Richard and Ellen could not have apparated out even if the wards were not in place. But the others in the room, aside from Hermione and Minerva, did not know that.

"So then you're pretty much done here?" Harry pressed.

"Well, yeah," Richard responded.

"And?" Baldrek asked expectantly, stepping forward.

Richard shrugged as he and Ellen stood from their stations. "Well, everything seems to check out, at least to us. I shouldn't see any problem recertifying this place. So we'll be in touch with that and you should be receiving your updated magical gaming license soon."

Baldrek nodded excitedly, pleased that they had finished so quickly. He walked up to Richard and stuck his hand out. "Thanks for the help. It was great meeting you!" he said with exaggerated pleasantness.

"Don't press your luck," Richard growled as he grasped the larger man's hand firmly. The two maintained eye contact for several seconds before Ellen elbowed Richard to get his attention. "Erm… right," Richard stammered, finally breaking eye contact. "I guess we'll just be on our way then."

"I'll be waiting for that license!" Baldrek called after them as Richard opened the door.

"Don't hold your breath," he muttered. But as he turned to walk out the door, Richard bumped into a very familiar blond as he rushed through the open door.

End of Chapter 19

A/N: Thank you all for your reviews and positive comments about chapter 18. As I promised, things picked up in this chapter as we saw Harry's plan come to fruition. Meanwhile, several other plot lines were tied up a bit, and will continue to be in the next chapter. With only two more chapters to go, one of which is the epilogue, the story is coming to a close. As a result, the pacing will slow down as we reach the denouement. That said, the heist is not _complete_ yet, as you saw from the cliffhanger. There is still a bit of that to go in chapter 20, so stay tuned.

I want to congratulate the following reviewers for correctly guessing the title of this chapter: luvsanime02 and osc630. While I thought that the title of this chapter would be somewhat obvious, apparently it wasn't. Great job to both of you who got it right, and I encourage everybody to guess about the title of the next chapter.

**Chapter Title Hint:** It only makes sense that this song, which was released alongside the title of Chapter 19, and was usually performed alongside the title of Chapter 19, is being posted as a chapter alongside Chapter 19. This song, which usually rounded out a Queen live performance, has found its calling as the anthem of many a sports team. I hope everybody is able to guess this chapter, as its title ties in nicely with the end of this story.

Once again, I thank each and every one of you for reading and providing feedback about this story. It is only through your reviews and suggestions that I am able to grow as a writer. As you read, please don't hesitate to leave me a review (or two or three) to let me know what you think or provide any constructive feedback. Any legitimate suggestions may find their way into my future stories.

Thank you for your reviews and support and I will see you again soon with chapter 20.


	20. We are the Champions

Chapter 20

**We Are the Champions**

_July 29, 2011_

_2:18 PM_

_The Merlin Resort and Casino_

Richard Granger recoiled as he ran into a severe-looking blond as he rushed into the room.

"Er... sorry," he muttered as he pinned himself against the open door. He briefly made eye contact with the newcomer, who scowled at him momentarily before turning his attention to Baldrek.

"What's wrong with the wards?" He demanded. Lucius was livid. He had just watched Sirius Black and that filthy werewolf Remus Lupin escape from his resort with the prone figure of Peter Pettigrew. Normally the casino was blanketed by anti-apparition and anti-portkey wards. But somehow Black and Lupin had managed to get through those wards.

"Just running a test on them, Mr. Malfoy," Baldrek replied dutifully.

"Testing them? What for? There's no reason to test the wards; they weren't affected by the explosions! With the wards down, Sirius Black was able to get in here and take Pettigrew! Whose idea was it to take the wards down?"

"The MGC. They came in here and told me that they needed to run a few more checks before they'd certify us as ready to re-open completely. They even had your signature authorizing it. And who's Sirius Black anyway?"

"What kind of checks?" Lucius asked through gritted teeth, not answering the question about Sirius.

"Just on the cameras, wards, and vault. I was thinking it'd be better to just go along with it so that we could-"

"THE VAULT? I've told you never to allow anyone from the MGC down in the vault! What in Merlin's name were you thinking?"

"They had your signature..." Baldrek said feebly.

"Who did? Who had my signature?" Malfoy pressed, his voice continuing to rise with every word.

"The folks you just let walk past you," he answered, trailing off as he looked over Lucius's shoulder.

Lucius spun around to see that the group that had been at the door when he arrived was now gone. "Have the guards stop them before they get out the doors!" Lucius cried as he bolted out of the office.

However, just as Malfoy issued that order the gang of five found themselves bursting out of the casino and into the blinding sunlight of the Las Vegas strip.

Slowing their pace to allay suspicion, the group breathed a sigh of relief as they walked down the long paved path that stretched out before The Merlin. But just as they passed the fountain they were startled out of their silent celebration by an angry cry.

"Stop!" Lucius screamed as he walked briskly toward them, flanked on either side by a pair of guards. "What the hell were you doing in my vault?" he shouted, paying no mind to nearby pedestrians, a crowd of which had stopped to witness the confrontation.

Harry and the others ignored him and continued to walk away from the resort, silently beginning to panic as they tried to think of how they were going to evade Malfoy.

"I said stop!" Lucius yelled. When he saw that his quarry had no intention of following his orders, he nodded to the guards flanking him on either side. "Stop them," he ordered.

The four guards picked up their pace, fingering their wands through their jackets as they approached the fleeing government imposters.

"What do you think you're doing?" a voice bellowed, stopping the guards and their prey in their tracks. Roger Daltrey stepped between Lucius and his guards and Harry and his companions, accompanied by trio of real MGC employees. "I asked what you think you're doing!"

"I wanted to see what they were doing in my vault!" Lucius shouted, pointing at Harry and the others. "I never authorized that, so they had no right to be down there!"

"And you think that accosting government personnel in broad daylight is the best way to go about getting your answers?"

Silently, Harry broke away from the others and approached Daltrey. "We had authorization," he said defiantly. "You gave us permission to go down to the vault and your security chief let us down there. He's the one who has the authorization form. He's the one who used his brain and allowed us to inspect the vault, knowing full well that we wouldn't re-certify the resort for operation without that inspection. If you're going to be angry with anyone, make it him."

Daltrey eyed Harry carefully before nodding. "You guys," he began, addressing Harry and his companions, "we'll talk later. For now, just get back to the office. Go!"

Harry nodded and scrambled back to the others, who crossed the street toward the Luxor before turning toward Excalibur in an attempt to mask their true destination.

"Now Mr. Malfoy," Daltrey continued once the others had left, "I suggest you check with your head of security next time before jumping to conclusions. I don't want to ever catch you harassing my people again, is that understood?" Without waiting for an answer, he spun on his heel and left a stunned Malfoy and his entourage alone in front of the resort.

* * *

><p><em>July 29, 2011<em>

_2:31 PM_

_The Merlin Resort and Casino_

Nathan Baldrek stood against the back wall of the security office, arms crossed in triumph. He had just managed to get the Magical Gaming Commission to conduct their final check of the resort's security systems faster than usual, meaning that the resort could now reopen to the general public earlier than expected. Giving himself another mental pat on the back, Baldrek felt that he was now a shoe-in to be promoted up to a Chair position the next time one opened up. Of course there had been the issue with Lucius Malfoy not agreeing with him allowing the MGC into the vault but he had authorized such an inspection himself. When judged in that light Baldrek could not view the day's events as anything other than a rousing success.

But for now he reminded himself that he had to stay focused on his current job no matter how boring it may be to oversee security for a resort that had yet to have a security breach of any kind. Yes, he thought, he was a sure choice for that promotion. Of course, Malfoy's anger at his allowing the MGC into the vault could pose a problem but he was sure that the Board would see that decision in a more positive light, especially since the MGC investigators had not found anything out of the ordinary.

"Um… sir," one of the lowly security operators in the back row called suddenly. "I've got a problem."

Baldrek rolled his eyes. He could never leave these people to their own devices; they always found some way to cause trouble.

"What is it now?" he asked in annoyance as he walked over. He bent over and put his arms on the console on either side to support him.

"It doesn't look like camera seventy-three is working. I mean it says here," the technician pointed at the screen on the station, "that it's not even on."

"That's not right," Baldrek said dismissively. "It's up on the screen over there." He looked up to see that, sure enough, an image of the inside of the vault was being displayed on two of the peripheral screens hanging on the wall. "Both of them are working just fine."

"But, actually," the operator continued, "camera seventy-four is also down… at least according to the control screen. It actually says that they're switched off!"

"They're on," Baldrek said firmly as he tapped a few buttons to transfer one of the images to the large screen in the center of the wall. "And they're working just fine. Leave it be and we'll have someone check on the system later. Just forget about it for now."

He pushed himself off of the console and walked back to his perch at the top of the room, leaning against the wall. Standing there he watched the large central screen, which was now displaying a view of the interior of the vault. Just as he expected, the vault was completely full, and in perfect condition. As the camera panned back and forth, he reveled in the fact that the entire inspection had gone well, which forced his mind back to his fantasy of being one of the resort's executives, making a seven figure salary each year.

Suddenly, the image on the central screen flickered for a moment before returning to a view of the inside of the vault. However, as the camera continued to pan, Baldrek noticed one glaring difference. The cages were empty.

"What happened?" he shouted, launching himself away from the wall. "What'd you do?"

He rushed over to the station he had just been at and spun the operator in his chair to face him. "What'd you do?" he demanded once again.

"I turned the cameras on," the young man replied shakily.

"What do you mean you turned them on?" Baldrek pressed angrily. "They were already on!"

"No they weren't!" Chad, the operator, argued, finally standing up for himself. "You saw it just as well as I did! The. Cameras. Were. Not. On! I just turned them on and that's what happened!"

Baldrek released the swivel chair and looked back up at the screen as the camera panned around the vault once again, once more showing the empty cages.

"Oh, crap," he muttered. Malfoy's panic may not have been pointless after all.

* * *

><p><em>July 29, 2011<em>

_10:13 PM BST_

_Heathrow Airport, London, U.K._

Sirius, Remus, and Peter materialized in the magical reception area of Heathrow Airport in London. Despite the fact that it was nearing the middle of the night in this time zone, the international portkey arrival area was buzzing with activity as the portkey departure queue was nearly twenty people in length and growing due to the impending weekend.

While arrivals were few and far between, the three newcomers found themselves swamped by others within moments, forcing Sirius and Remus to drag Peter out of the arrival alcove and toward the security desk.

"Ah, it's good to be home," Sirius sighed. But Remus could tell that his voice was laced with apprehension and anticipation.

"Are you gonna be okay?" he asked concernedly.

"I'm fine," Sirius replied nervously.

"Doesn't sound like it," Remus pointed out. "And that's alright. But I'm here with you; I'll support you in this, so don't worry about it."

"That's not what I'm worried about," Sirius admitted. "I'm worried that it won't work. No offense Moony but you don't really have much credibility with the Ministry because of-"

"I know what you're trying to say," Remus interrupted. "And I know it's a risk. But remember what could happen if it works; you could be a free man again, Sirius! And that's not something that you should just throw away!"

Sirius sighed. "I know. And frankly I know there's no turning back. I'm just nervous, that's all."

"I know you are. I am too! But it's gotta be done. So are you ready?"

Sirius nodded as the pair hefted Peter's unconscious body onto their shoulders once again and dragged him toward the nearby security desk. Once they reached the checkpoint Sirius dropped Peter onto his limp feet, letting Remus support the rest of his considerable weight.

"Names and occupations?" the guard asked Sirius in a bored tone.

Sirius took a deep breath before forcing a broad smile. "Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew," he announced. "Fugitive, werewolf, and dead man respectively."

* * *

><p><em>July 29, 2011<em>

_2:34 PM PST_

_Las Vegas, Nevada_

"And here I thought we were completely screwed back there!" Richard laughed. "Looks like your mate finally came through for us back there Harry."

"Hey, I did my part too!" Harry protested. "I managed to make Malfoy at least a bit angry!"

"You're not the only one who was able to do that today!"

"Right! I can't believe you got on that Baldrek bloke's bad side!" Harry chuckled.

"He had it coming!" Richard replied, laughing as well.

The entire group found themselves crossing the street from New York New York, walking toward their residence at The Signature at MGM Grand. Having shrunk the trio of mokeskin bags in the vault and transfiguring their uniforms once out of sight of Lucius and his cronies, the group did not look out of place amongst the crowds milling on the sidewalk.

"He was a bit of a plonker, wasn't he?" Harry asked.

"A bit? He was a right arsehole! But it was brilliant fun to play the hard-nosed government type for once!"

"I could tell!" Ellen joked. "We'll just be lucky if you don't take that attitude back to the practice!"

"Trust me, I won't," Richard reassured her. "I'll reserve that attitude for Harry here exclusively!"

Harry feigned a swoon. "Oh, I feel so honored!"

"Well you should, especially since I helped cover for us while we were back there. I ended up recording a bit off of the cameras so that it could be replayed over and over. With any luck, it'll be a while before they notice that the vault it actually empty."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked. "That was part of the plan in the first place!"

"Well, I ended up doing it!" Richard chuckled. "So I should get some credit for that!"

Harry bowed to Richard mockingly. "You have my eternal thanks, good sir," he said with faux respect.

"Oh, sod off!" Richard joked, smacking Harry lightly with the back of his hand.

"But you're right," Harry continued as they entered the MGM Grand. "Hopefully they won't notice what happened for a while. We're sitting ducks here until we leave!"

"But how likely are they to find out it was us?" Hermione asked. "We dressed differently, changed our appearance… even our voices! It'll take them a while to realize who it was... if they find out at all!"

"And I'm sure that Daltrey will run a bit of interference for us as well," Harry agreed. "After all, I did him this favor, so I hardly think he'd want us to be caught. I don't think he wants to be tied back to what just happened."

"Well you know him better than we do, so I'll trust you on that," Hermione said.

Less than ten minutes later, the group stepped off of the elevator on the eighth floor of The Signature and made their way down the hall to their respective rooms. However, as they rounded the corner out of the elevator alcove, they spotted a figure sitting on the floor against the wall next to Minerva's door.

"Malfoy," Harry groaned as soon as they were within range, "what're you doing here?"

"I would ask you the same thing, Potter. But that stupid grin on your face tells me everything I need to know. You did it, didn't you?"

"Of course we did!" Harry snapped, though the smile was still plastered on his face. "Did you expect anything different?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?" Draco asked as he rose from the floor, waiting for Minerva to unlock the door to her room.

"I don't know," Harry replied. "Do you want me to hear your answer? Or will you end up regretting it?"

"Boys!" Minerva barked. "How many times do I need to head off one of your arguments? We are both on the same side here-"

"We're not on the same side," Draco corrected. "Our interests just happened to be the same for a moment. Speaking of interests, I'm here to collect on mine."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked through gritted teeth, his good mood quickly evaporating.

"You didn't honestly think I'd have you steal all that money for nothing, did you? I want my share!"

"You've gotta be kidding me!" Harry cried. "You never said anything about wanting any money! You just said that you wanted to screw Voldemort. Well guess what, Malfoy? You got your wish! Your father is now millions of dollars poorer, which means that Voldemort has that much less money at his disposal! So since that's what you said you wanted, I suggest you take it and leave!"

"Excuse me? After all I did for you, you're _that_ eager to kick me to the curb? You wouldn't have been able to get this far without me! You ungrateful, sodding little son of a-"

"Yes?" Harry pressed. "Go on, finish it! You're still not getting anything out of us!"

"But what if you want my help in the future?"

"We won't."

"Are you so sure about that Potter? Can you really afford to just assume that I might not come in handy some day? Not that I'm saying that I'll necessarily help you, but there is always the chance that our interests could align again."

As reprehensible as he found bribing Draco, Harry had to admit that he had been useful in recent days, and that he could not afford to close the door on future collaborations. "How much?" he asked in defeat.

"Oh, so you finally see my wisdom, eh Potter? Finally get that you can't always stand on your precious little Gryffindor pedestal of virtue and light, condemning the behavior of others?"

"Do you want some money or not?" Harry growled as he reached into his pocket and withdrew the single miniature bag that he had been carrying, and placed it on the coffee table.

"Well that depends on how much you're gonna give me," Draco replied smugly.

Harry pulled out his wand and restored the bag to its original size before unzipping it, displaying the contents for all to see. Everyone, with the exception of Minerva, crowded around the small glass coffee table to see what the bag contained. Inside they could see neat bundles of fresh, crisp hundred dollar notes bundled in stacks of ten thousand dollars, filling the bag nearly to the brim.

"I want it," Draco declared, peering into the bag.

"Want what?" Harry asked, even though he felt that he knew the answer already.

"The bag. I want this bag. I don't care what you do with the rest of the money, but I want this bag. Just hand it to me and I'll be on my way."

"You've gotta be kidding me! We've only got three bags like this, and you want a third of them? How greedy can you get, Malfoy?"

"Would you have stolen the money if I didn't insist on it?" Draco challenged. "Don't even answer that because you know that you wouldn't have. So I think it's only fair that I get the biggest share, don't you?"

Harry glanced around the room to see that all eyes were on him. He had to admit that Draco did have a point; they would not have stolen the money if he had not insisted on it. But to give him one third of the total just seemed preposterous. However, as Harry looked around at the others, he realized from the looks on their faces that they could not have cared less what he did with the money. Instead they were more satisfied with what they had accomplished by stealing the horcrux.

"Whatever," Harry groaned as he reached down to zip up the bag once more. He then grabbed it by the handles and threw it forcefully at Draco. "Keep the bag," Harry added. "You need a good bag over your head to hide your ugly mug anyway."

"Gee, you're really starting to get nasty, Potter," Draco observed sarcastically. "What? Is single life getting to you? Maybe all you need is a good roll in the-"

"Mr. Malfoy! That is enough!" Minerva shouted. "You have what you came for so if there is nothing else, I suggest that you show yourself out. Is that understood?"

Draco just snorted briefly in laughter as he took the bag and made for the door. "See you back at Hogwarts Potter."

* * *

><p><em>July 29, 2011<em>

_2:37 PM_

_The Merlin Resort and Casino_

"How in Merlin's name could you let something like this happen?" Lucius roared to his head of security. "I've told you time and time again that nobody is allowed down in that vault! Especially people from the government!"

"But they had an order... signed by you!" Baldrek shouted back. He and Malfoy were alone in the security office; the other employees had scattered when the incensed chairman had entered the room.

"I never signed anything of the sort! Who gave it to you?"

"They did! You saw them! And they were all jackasses about the whole thing too! Walked around here like they owned the place!"

"That doesn't tell me anything! Sirius Black was here not two hours ago so he had to be involved in this somehow. Now, what else can you remember?"

"The one... Kanger I think his name was, seemed to be the leader. He was the one who was in charge, barking orders to everyone. The thing is, everything he said seemed kinda vague... like he really didn't know what he was talking about or like he was winging it. But any time he ran into a problem with finding something to say someone else would jump to his rescue, usually a woman. A young sounding one too."

"It could have been that blasted Order," Lucius reasoned. "If Black was here, it stands to reason that his associates were as well. This Kanger fellow and his female accomplice... it could have been that old codger Dumbledore and his tow-along McGonagall."

Baldrek shook his head. "Nah, he didn't talk like any old man I've ever met. Almost like a kid now that I think about it."

"Potter..." Malfoy whispered. "It has to be. That's the only explanation. Black was here... so it only makes sense that Potter tagged along like a lost puppy. When I find him..." he trailed off.

"I'm sure they're long gone by now," Baldrek interjected. "I mean, there's no reason for them to stay here in Vegas. I'm willing to bet they've already floo'd back to England by now."

Suddenly, a sharp knock on the door startled the two men out of their conversation. Malfoy opened the door to find Roger Daltrey and two companions waiting in the hall outside.

"You!" Lucius shouted as he saw Daltrey. "What're you doing here?"

Daltrey shrugged. "Your man here called and told us there might have been some kind of theft. So naturally, here we are."

"I don't understand why you insist on coming down here!" Lucius Malfoy cried as he exited the elevator in front of the main vault five minutes later.

"Hey, now! You're the one who told us that there might've been a theft down here!" Roger Daltrey pointed out, as he followed the resort chairman into the hall. "So what did you expect? For us to just ask a few questions and be done with it? I would've thought you'd want us to conduct a thorough investigation!" As he finished speaking, two MGC investigators stepped out of the elevator, followed closely by Nathan Baldrek, who appeared to be sweating bullets.

"No, I just don't understand why you were so insistent about coming down here right away," Lucius replied sheepishly.

"You were the one who called us," Daltrey reminded him. "I'm just doing my job. The job that your tax dollars pay for so I would think you'd want to get your money's worth. But if you think you're okay, then so be it. I'm sure you have the insurance to cover something like this, so I hardly think that you _need_ us to be here to get your money back. But if that's not the case then open the vault."

With a heavy sigh, Lucius nodded to Baldrek who in turn used his two-way radio to call the security office above. A moment later the massive steel door groaned open, once again revealing the thick bars that lay behind. As soon as the door finished opening, the bars rose into the ceiling, granting access to the vault within.

"Ah, I see what you mean," Daltrey said philosophically. Just as he had been told, the shelves that were normally bursting with cash were completely barren with nary a bill to be seen anywhere. "Quite the mess you've got here, isn't it?"

"That's what we called you for!" Lucius replied angrily. "You're supposed to be the ones who can figure this out; figure out who did this."

"Yes," Daltrey responded slowly, "if there's enough evidence. If there's no evidence I can't figure anything out. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's get started, shall we?" He nodded at his two companions, who each withdrew their wand and began to scan the shelves for any tell-tale signs of tampering or other evidence.

"Looks like an unlocking charm was used on this one," the first of the investigators said, crouching down to examine one of the lower doors closely.

Daltrey nodded as he turned his attention back to the rest of the vault. While he had been in his share of vaults over the years, each one was slightly different. This one was different, which he realized as soon as he laid eyes on the door on the far wall of the vault.

"Where does that go?" he asked. He knew from experience that other vaults contained similar doors, which usually led to some form of secondary vault, used to protect the most important items on the property. However, the difference between those doors and this was that this did not seem to have any sort of locking mechanism. Whereas the others could simply be opened by a key carried by the chairman, as Daltrey had informed Harry, this door seemed to be missing any form of key hold. The closest thing Daltrey could see was a small hole just to the right of the door. However, its shape did not correspond to any kind of key that Daltrey had ever seen.

"That's…" Lucius began nervously, "that's the inner vault. We use it for valuables and other things that we want to keep separate from the money."

"Open it," Daltrey ordered.

"What?" Lucius balked.

"I said open it. I want to see what's inside."

"You don't have any right to see what's-"

"I have every right!" Daltrey roared. "I'm the chief investigator for the Magical Gaming Commission, here on official business! Business, I might add, that _you_ asked us to come down here for! So don't you lecture me on what I can and cannot do! If I want into that vault as part of my investigation, you can bet I'm gonna get in there!"

Lucius backed away slightly as Daltrey strode toward the mysterious door. He bent over and looked into the hole next to the door briefly before sticking his finger inside. An instant later, he yanked his finger out.

"Ow!" he exclaimed. "What in God's name was that?" When Lucius did not answer, that only served to make Daltrey more suspicious. "It's like it was trying to prick me for blood or something… Xavier!" he called, getting the attention of one of his assistants. "Take a look at this, will you? Something's not right with this door."

A short, pale, blond young man, rushed over with his wand still drawn. He quickly approached the door and began waving his wand in a seemingly random pattern, trying to decipher the secret of the door.

_Tell me it's a blood ward,_ Daltrey prayed. _Please let it be a blood ward so I can bust this guy back to the Stone Age._

"It's a blood ward," Xavier confirmed.

"Open it," Daltrey commanded, turning to Lucius and trying to hide his grin.

"I… I can't," Lucius replied, standing firm.

Not liking this answer, Daltrey drew his own wand and aimed it at Lucius. Instantly, Baldrek drew his own, but Daltrey's other assistant was quicker with his wand, training it on the chief of security.

"You really want to go down that road, dude?" Daltrey asked menacingly. "Drawing your wand on a government agent… I'll see you in court for that one. Now, Malfoy, I said open the door. Open it or you'll find yourself in prison for three to five."

"I can't!" Lucius maintained emphatically. "It's keyed to someone else!"

"Keyed to someone else?" Daltrey repeated. "Just great." He pulled out his cell phone and punched a few numbers before putting it up to his ear. "Ramona?" he asked, as soon as the ringing ceased. "You there? Good. Hey, listen, I'm down here in the vault at The Merlin… yeah, I know I've spent too much time here already. Anyway, listen. I need a cursebreaker down here immediately. No, I don't care who. Just gimme the person who can get here the fastest, alright?" Without warning, he ended the call before placing the phone back in his pocket. "Now," he continued, "let's get comfortable. We've got a bit of a wait ahead of us."

Thirty five minutes later, a tall, lanky man in his mid-forties stepped out of the elevator. He instantly spotted a familiar face in Roger Daltrey and strode confidently toward him, passing through the vault threshold and into the vault proper.

"Ah, Marshall," Daltrey greeted happily, "nice to see you. Malfoy, this is Marshall Guinere, one of my best cursebreakers. Had to recruit him all the way from the MBI, I did. But now he's here to deal with situations just like this one, aren't you, Marshall?"

"Well that depends on what this situation is, doesn't it, Roger?" Guinere joked.

"Touché," Daltrey admitted. "But it looks like we've got a blood ward on our hands here-"

"Oh, really?" Marshall asked, intrigued. He pulled his thick bottle cap glasses down the bridge of his nose, resting them on the tip as he peered over their edge. "Well, we'll see about that, won't we?" He then pulled out his wand and went to work.

Lucius Malfoy was in a panic. He knew what lay behind that door and he was afraid of anyone other than the Dark Lord having access to it. While he was less concerned with the loss of the millions of dollars that had been stored in his vault, he was afraid that the U.S. government would find out that he had employed an illegal blood ward to protect his master's most prized possession. He knew that, if convicted of such an offense, he could be sentenced to as many as five years in an American magical prison if, of course, he personally could be tied to the crime. And while he would never let it come to that the possibility of even being charged with using such wards would put an indelible spot on his otherwise spotless record in the States and could preclude him from ever personally doing business in the United States again.

"That's odd," Marshall said, shaking Lucius from his thoughts. "It's been opened recently. I can't tell how recently, but probably within the last day or so."

"So how do we open it?" Roger asked.

"Slide it open."

"That's it?" Daltrey asked stupidly.

Guinere shrugged. "It was never sealed again from the last time it was opened. Granted, the blood reader next to the door would normally trigger the mechanism to open the door automaticallyb but you should be able to just slide it open by force now."

"Right," Daltrey nodded.

"Oh, Merlin," Lucius whispered as the investigator began to open the door, closing his eyes to the sight.

As soon as the door finished opening, great bundles of cash poured out, piling up on the floor at the two men's feet. It took nearly ten seconds for the torrent of money to finish, still leaving a mountain of bills inside the small room yet exposing the top of a very empty pedestal in its center.

"Well, I think I found your missing money, Malfoy," Daltrey observed, as he bent over to pick up a bundle.

But it was not the missing money that Lucius was worried about. Instead, his eyes had opened and were fixated on the empty pedestal in the center of the smaller vault as his thoughts turned to the missing horcrux that used to reside on it.

* * *

><p><em>July 30, 2011<em>

_12:52 AM BST_

_Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Ministry of Magic_

Amelia Bones strode down the hall from her cramped office toward the Ministry's small detention facility. Less than three hours before she had been awoken by an urgent floo call telling her that Sirius Black had turned himself in at Heathrow Airport. For three years, ever since he had escaped from Azkaban, Amelia had been dying to receive the call that told her that he was now in custody. Now her dream had finally come true.

When she had arrived at Heathrow, she had found Black sequestered away in an office behind the scenes of the magical sector of the airport, guarded by no less than five armed security officers. Other than introducing herself to him, Amelia had had no verbal contact with Sirius and had instead ordered her Aurors to arrest him and bring him back to the Ministry for questioning.

Leaving Heathrow, the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement had gone immediately to her office to retrieve Black's file for review. Nearly three years before when Black had escaped from Azkaban, Madame Bones had become intimately familiar with his file and had in the process learned that he had never been tried. Despite the fervent protests of Albus Dumbledore he had been incarcerated without a trial, where he remained until he escaped. This had infuriated Amelia who, despite having a stern personality, valued justice above all else. Though she knew that her arguments in favor of a trial for Black fell on deaf ears and were likely pointless as she did not expect to capture him, she persisted, fighting more for a principle than for a man.

But now she found herself in a position to fulfill both sides of the equation. Giving Sirius Black a fair trial could both put his case to rest as well as change the status quo at the Ministry. Grasping the folder containing Black's record in one hand, Amelia opened the door to the observation room outside the interrogation room.

"Anything so far?" she asked the observer, sitting behind a pane of one-way glass, which happened to be one of the many magical inventions that had found its way into the muggle world.

"He's waiting to talk to you," he replied, nodding toward the window, behind which Sirius was seated, alone at a table in the center of the next room.

"Is he now? Well, we shouldn't keep him waiting, should we?" Amelia straightened her monocle before striding confidently through the door that joined the two rooms, closing it softly behind her.

"Hello again Mr. Black," she said as she set the folder on the table and took a seat opposite Sirius.

"Please, Amelia, call me Sirius," he flirted.

"Alright… Sirius," she began, "what were you doing at Heathrow this evening? And who were your two companions?"

"I would've thought you'd know that by now," Sirius said. "I'm sure you've already talked to them… well, at least Moony-"

"Moony? Who's that?"

"Remus Lupin. He has a bit of a nickname, you could say-"

"Because of his lycanthropy?"

"Maybe. But it's not a condition! It just makes him a bit… different. That doesn't mean he's some kind of monster!"

"I never said he was, Sirius. Although the Ministry may officially believe that werewolves are a menace to society and should be discriminated against, I do not share that view. But you are correct, I have spoken to Mr. Lupin and I hold his testimony in high esteem. But I want to hear from you. What were you doing at Heathrow Airport this evening?"

"Coming back from holiday," Sirius replied cheekily. "What did you think I was doing? I finally found the rat that put me in Azkaban all those years ago so obviously I was bringing him back here for you lot to question!"

Amelia opened the folder and looked down at the file in front of her. Despite the fact that the room was only lit by a single light source hanging above the table, she was able to easily make out the text on the parchment. "And what rat would that be?" she asked.

"Peter Pettigrew! Who else did you think I was talking about? The fat bloke that came back with Moony and I! That was Peter Pettigrew!"

"Peter Pettigrew is dead, Mr. Black," Amelia pointed out. Although she knew that they were, indeed, holding Pettigrew in another room, she needed to play devil's advocate with Sirius in order to pick his brain for its most valuable secrets. One of the first things she had learned about interrogations was that, in times of emotional stress, a person is likely to make mistakes, and reveal the truth. If she acted as though she did not know what Sirius was talking about, or that he was lying, she felt that she would get better answers out of him.

"Of course he's not dead! You lot saw him in the airport! He was unconscious yes, but he's still alive and kicking!"

"And just what did you think would happen if you turned him over to us, hm?"

"That I'd finally get the trial I should have had fifteen years ago," Sirius said, looking down at the table. "I'm not expecting to be given a magical get out of jail free card or anything like that. Even though I didn't do anything wrong, I still think a trial is in order… in order to finally clear the air, so to speak. But that… man, in there… he holds the key to my freedom. The only reason I was ever arrested was for his murder and the murder of a bunch of muggles. You and I both know that it isn't illegal to betray somebody under the Fidelius Charm even if I was the secret keeper. But Peter… he was the real secret keeper! So you can't even say I was guilty of that! You've found the man who killed those muggles, who betrayed the Potters! Now do something about it! For too long I've lived on the run, living under the shadow of another man's guilt. Now I want my revenge! Now I want it set right!"

"And that is what we are here for Mr. Black. But I cannot judge your case fairly without information."

"What kind of information?"

"Well, you can begin by telling me about this... 'rat' as you call him. Tell me about Peter Pettigrew. Tell me everything."

Sirius looked into her eyes and saw genuine curiosity. "Well..." he began, "once upon a time there were these three animigi and a werewolf..."

* * *

><p><em>July 30, 2011<em>

_3:49 PM PST_

_Las Vegas, Nevada_

Harry waited patiently in line at the Las Vegas branch of Gringotts bank, located in the Magical Mezzanine above the Fashion Show Mall. In either hand, hanging at his sides, was one of the two remaining mokeskin duffel bags that held the cash from the vault at The Merlin. However, one of them also held the cup that had once belonged to Helga Hufflepuff, which was the main reason why Harry was reticent to let either of the heavy bags rest on the floor. As that thought was running through his mind, a teller window opened up, and the goblin behind the counter beckoned Harry over.

Taking that as his cue, Harry carried the two bags over to the open window and set them on the counter with a thud.

"I want to make a few deposits," he said, beginning to unzip the side pocket of one of the bags. He withdrew the cup and set it to the side before pushing the two bags forward. "I want each of these bags deposited in a different vault," he instructed.

"Whose vault?" the goblin snarled without malice.

"I want one put in the vault for Remus Lupin-"

"In which country?" the teller pressed.

"What do you mean 'which country?' There should only be on Remus Lupin."

The goblin did not respond, but instead stared at Harry expectantly.

"Ugh, fine. Remus Lupin in Britain. And I want the other bag put in the Weasley family vault… also in Britain."

"Very well," the goblin growled, moving to grab the bags from the counter. But Harry was quick to put his hand on them first.

"But I want them converted to galleons first," he added. "There's a bit over forty million dollars in each of these, so I'll be watching to make sure enough galleons end up in each of those vaults."

The goblin teller bared his teeth at Harry menacingly but nodded as he pulled the bags off of the counter and disappeared. A moment later, the goblin returned. "Is there anything else?" it asked, annoyed.

"Just one more transaction," Harry said. "I want this cup stored in my vault. And I want blood protections on it. I don't want anyone else to be able to get into my vault to get this thing."

"Your key?" the goblin asked, stretching out a hand to Harry. Harry fished around in his pocket before producing the small metal instrument, which he handed to his teller. The goblin placed it on the counter before running its hand over the key briefly. "Such protections are already in place on your vault Mr. Potter."

"Just wanted to make sure," Harry muttered. "But make sure this ends up in my vault at the Diagon Alley branch."

"Mr. Potter, all deposits end up at the Diagon Alley branch," the teller informed him. "Gringotts satellite branches do not have vaults of their own, for security purposes. All vaults for all customers around the world are under the Diagon Alley branch."

"Fine," Harry replied, even though he had not known that tidbit of information. "Just make sure it gets there as soon as possible, alright?"

The goblin nodded as it withdrew the cup from the counter as well. "Is there anything else Mr. Potter?" it asked as it handed Harry's key back to him.

"No, that's it. Thanks," Harry grumbled, taking his key and walking out of the bank.

Five minutes later found Harry wandering down The Strip aimlessly, hands in his pockets, as he casually made his way back to The Signature. With only two more days until they were scheduled to depart Las Vegas, the group's time in the city was quickly running out, and Harry still had business to attend to before leaving. However he was also looking forward to returning to Britain, excited to see how Sirius's situation had turned out.

As he was walking along deep in thought, Harry failed to notice another individual walk up alongside him and match his stride.

"Pretty interesting how you did that Harry," a familiar voice said, interrupting Harry's thoughts. Harry jerked his head up to find that he was walking next to Roger Daltrey.

"What're you doing here?" Harry asked. "Don't you have more important things to be doing right now?"

"You mean like investigating The Merlin?" Daltrey asked. Harry nodded. "We are. Right now in fact. I must say that the way you pulled that off was pretty neat, Harry. I mean, if you wanted, you could say that the first botched attempt was completely purposeful, since it let you get in using MGC credentials. But looping the video to help you escape? That was pretty good too. But then I had to come in and save your sorry ass, so it wasn't completely perfect."

"And what did you find out?" Harry asked, ignoring the older man's quip.

"You knew about the blood wards, didn't you?" Roger asked, only vaguely answering Harry's question.

"Yep," Harry replied proudly. "But if I told you, you wouldn't have believed me."

"So you just hinted at it?"

"Yep," Harry repeated. "So I take it you found out about them?"

"Yeah, but Malfoy wasn't too happy about it," Roger replied with a chuckle. "The fact that this was actually a robbery let us get down into the vault and I had to call in a cursebreaker to open it! How in the hell were you able to get in there?"

Harry shook his head as the two stopped at an intersection. "There are some things that I have to keep to myself. You should understand that."

"Fair enough," Daltrey granted. "But we still weren't able to tie Malfoy himself into the entire affair. We just don't have the proof to show that he was the one who set up the wards. If it had been his blood that had been keyed into the ward then that would be one thing and we could nail him for it. But we found someone else's blood that we didn't recognize instead."

"Why can't you get him? It's his bloody resort! He should be responsible for everything that goes on under that roof!"

"I agree with you, Harry. But my hands are tied on this and not by my superiors. Malfoy was able to insulate himself well enough to wash his hands of the entire thing-"

"What do you mean?" Harry interrupted angrily.

"He's not here for most of the year so he does have that excuse. We can't prove that he knew about the blood wards at all which is why we could only fine the resort itself."

"You could only fine… after all that you couldn't nail Malfoy? Of course he knew about the blood wards! Why else would he be nervous about you going down to the vault?"

Daltrey shrugged. "You and I both know that, but I couldn't prove it in court. And that's what matters here. Since I don't have the proof to convict him, I can't charge him. And since I can't charge him the next best thing I can do is fine him… or his resort at least. But it's not all bad news."

"Please, make this better for me somehow," Harry grumbled.

"I have a feeling that Malfoy isn't long for this city," Daltrey announced.

"What?"

"We fined him ten million dollars, Harry. You stole… more than one hundred million dollars if I remember correctly. That's a hell of a lot of money, money that Malfoy doesn't have."

"He doesn't have insurance…"

"I know that now, which makes it all the better. You know, Malfoy doesn't own the resort completely; he's got a board of directors that are breathing down his neck day in and day out. He may own a the largest share, but he needed the help of other wealthy folks to even build the place to start with. That's why he's the chairman. And because he's the chairman he's able to funnel some of the profits overseas… skimming if you will."

"But…"

"But I just found out about a meeting of the board of directors that happened this morning. Apparently, Malfoy never told them that he didn't have insurance on the vault nor did he say anything about the blood wards. While I wasn't there for the meeting, I can't imagine that the board was very happy. Anyway, long story short, they stripped him of his chairman position. He still owns forty-nine percent of the resort, but he doesn't have control over it anymore."

"So he's ruined?"

"Not ruined, per se, but certainly wounded. He doesn't have a job in Vegas anymore. He doesn't have the same income stream he once had from the casino. So he's having to tuck tail and run back to that rock in the North Atlantic that you call home."

"But that wasn't the worst thing he lost yesterday," Harry muttered.

"What was that?" Daltrey asked.

"Nothing," Harry replied quickly, eliciting a small smile from his companion.

"At any rate, you were able to expose Lucius Malfoy for what he is, which is something I hadn't been able to do for years. So thank you for that, Harry. As a result of this entire incident, we now have a bit more leeway with watching over The Merlin, which kinda justifies everything I've been saying to my superiors over the past few years. I can smell that promotion coming any day now, so thanks again."

"Hey, you helped me just as much as I helped you," Harry reminded him as they crossed The Strip, approaching the MGM.

"True," Roger admitted.

The pair walked in silence for the next few minutes as they passed by Paris. But Harry's mind kept going back to a question that had been nagging him for a few days; one that he had yet to have answered.

"Tell me, Roger, have you seen or heard of anything else suspicious going on at The Merlin? Anything out of place?"

Daltrey's brow furrowed in confusion as he shook his head lightly. "Not that I can think of, Harry. Why?"

"I just… I just have this nagging suspicion that something wasn't right over there; something else aside from the whole blood ward issue and the like."

"Like what?"

Harry shook his head. "You're gonna think it's stupid-"

"Harry, a lot of people thought my claims were stupid when I said that there was something wrong there in the first place. So come on, spill it!"

"Ugh, fine," Harry groaned, grinning all the while. "There was this dealer, at The Merlin, named Al. I met him a couple of times and each time he was my dealer he seemed to know quite a bit more than he was letting on. He was the one who gave us the first tip about what was going on there. And every time I played with him, my cards just seemed to be a bit too… perfect. I would always win unless he was being watched by his pit boss. Not to mention the fact that the way he got the information to me in the first place was by somehow getting a piece of paper onto the back of one of my chips. But that's not the worst of it. When I went back and asked about him, none of the other dealers or pit bosses knew him. They told me that there was no Al that worked at The Merlin, let alone as a dealer. But a few days later, there he was again!"

Daltrey shook his head in puzzlement. "That's an odd one, I'll grant you that, Harry. And to be honest, I haven't heard of anything like that going on anywhere on The Strip. I'm sure there's some dealer named Al out there somewhere but no one who's done anything to get my attention. So honestly, I don't know what to tell you. I will tell you this, however: be careful, and keep your eyes open. One thing I've learned working in the magical world is that not everything is what it appears. That certainly sounds like it could apply in your situation, especially when you add everything up. But aside from that, I can't really give you much advice. Just keep your eyes open and see what you can see."

Harry nodded in acceptance. He hadn't really expected to learn anything extra about Al, but he had wanted to try and pick Daltrey's brain anyway, just to see if he knew anything. The fact that he did not only added to the mystique surrounding the mysterious dealer. But Harry swept all of that aside as the pair finally reached the MGM.

"Well, this is where we go our separate ways, Harry," Roger said with a tinge of sadness.

"Aw, don't sound so sad to see me go," Harry sniffed exaggeratedly.

"Oh, knock it off, you!" Daltrey laughed. "But, Harry, as much as we've argued, I have to say that it was fun. And thanks again for your help. Bringing down Malfoy was a job bigger than one man even if I am loathe to admit it."

"It was a job bigger than two, actually. Even I had the help of an entire team."

"Yeah you did. And give them my thanks, will you?" Harry nodded. "Great." Daltrey stuck out his hand toward Harry, who grasped it tightly. "Thanks for the help, Harry, and I guess I'll see you around, eh? If you're ever in town again, look me up, will you?"

"Sure," Harry agreed, shaking the man's hand firmly before letting go.

With a curt nod Daltrey turned and began to walk away before stopping and turning slightly. "Have fun during the rest of your time here... and stay out of trouble, alright?"

"You know I will!" Harry called after him with a wave. "After all, I've got a date to set up…"

Roger Daltrey let out a shallow laugh as he turned away from Harry once more and walked back in the direction they had come, before suddenly disappearing into a nearby alley.

"Well," Harry said quietly, "time to get started."

End of Chapter 20

A/N: Thank you all for your reviews and glowing remarks about chapter 19. It's really great to know that so many of you are enjoying the work I've put into this story. Since this is the second to the last chapter, there is not much to talk about, so let's get down to business.

Congratulations are in order for the following reviewers who correctly guessed the title of this chapter: osc630, luvsanime02, acam, Deedlez01, DragonShenron, Padfoot-Moony-an-Prongs, Ibris, and imagelesssky. Well done all of you and thank you for your guesses and reviews!

**Chapter Title Hint:** For final chapter, I have something different in store for you. Rather than name the chapter after a Queen song, I have decided to take a slightly different approach. The title of the epilogue is not a song but something very similar. It is closely related to Freddie Mercury's magnum opus, and the only song I ever said that I would not name a chapter after. The biggest hint I can offer you is to look at the past few chapters. I have dropped enough hints about what Harry and Hermione are going to do on their first date, and the title of chapter 21 reflects that. If you can figure out what they are doing on their date, and how that relates to Freddie's greatest work, then you will have the title to chapter 21. I am not sure how many of you will get this (hopefully everybody), but I'm looking at a few reviewers who seem to always get the right answer. Here's looking at you luvsanime02 and osc630!

Once again, I thank all of you for reading and reviewing and for sticking with this story as long as you have! Please leave me a review for this chapter, and I will see you soon with the epilogue as well as my lengthy post-mortem.


	21. A Night at the Opera

Epilogue

**A Night at the Opera**

_July 31, 2011_

_10:49 AM_

Hermione Granger sat down in one of the chairs surrounding a small round table in one of the many small coffee shops in Las Vegas. At Hermione's suggestion, Ellen had taken her daughter and Minerva to the Starbucks location just down the Strip from the MGM Grand, just inside a small food court near Paris. As Hermione took her seat, Minerva and Ellen were retrieving their drinks from the counter.

"Is it really that bad?" Ellen asked as she sat down across from Hermione, taking stock of her daughters countenance.

"Huh?" Hermione asked. "What do you mean?"

"You're daydreaming again," Ellen informed her. "But with a scowl on your face. Something's bothering you. So what is it?"

"It's just... It's... It's nothing," Hermione said meekly.

"So basically it is but it isn't," Ellen said, quirking an eyebrow.

"No, it simply isn't."

"Simply nothing or the absence of something?" The knowing older woman asked carefully.

"The absence of something but it's nothing."

"That nothing is something of importance, then?"

At this Minerva cleared her throat, visibly confused at what had just taken place. Hermione was starting to turn faintly crimson and Ellen appeared triumphant.

"That is to say," Ellen explained, "that Hermione is waiting on Harry to make some sort of move."

"This holiday is nearly over, I was really hoping that he'd take the initiative"

"This trip was never intended for pleasure." Minerva began. "However I would remind you that Mr. Potter leaves everything of importance to the last moment. Including transfiguration homework." Hermione smiled, feeling faintly more hopeful, to Ellen's amusement.

"Only my daughter would be happy to be compared to homework!"

"Hey!" Hermione cried. "You make me sound like a walking book!"

"Well, I don't walk around spouting random facts," Ellen reminded her good-naturedly. "But I'm sorry, you do talk and wave a wand as well. However, I distinctly remember you doing just that when you came home for Christmas in your first year. You never could shut up about this fact or that bit of information about the magical world."

Hermione blushed brightly as her mother teased her.

"I hardly think she was happy about being compared to homework," Minerva cut in. "But my point still stands, Mr. Potter has a tendency to procrastinate on important tasks, and I am sure that this is no different."

"Why do you expect him to ask you out anyway?" Ellen asked, earning another blush from her daughter.

"Because he said he would," Hermione answered quietly, reaching for the drink her mother had bought her.

"Oh, did he now? And when did he tell you this?"

"The other day after Daddy stopped off in our room. The entire affair was kinda awkward and one thing led to another..."

"You didn't!" Ellen cried.

"What?" Hermione asked, confused. Suddenly though, it dawned on her. "No!" she denied vehemently. "We didn't! We just talked that's all! Honest!"

"About?"

"Stuff!"

Minerva lifted an eyebrow. "'_Stuff' _is hardly an O level response to the question. I've come to expect much lengthier answers from you Ms. Granger."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Is it really important?" she asked, a pleading tone evident in her voice.

"No," Ellen replied. "But it is fascinating," she added with a smile.

"Then all the more reason not to answer you!" Hermione chirped.

Ellen shrugged. "Your loss. I guess you won't be getting any of my sage wisdom to help you out."

"Mother, in all honesty I'm kinda afraid of your 'sage wisdom.' If half of what Aunt Christine tells me is true, I'm not sure you'd be comfortable with me following your 'wisdom.'"

"What has she told you?" Ellen asked, eyes wide with panic.

Hermione's lips curled into an evil smirk. "That's between Aunt Christine and I. But my point still stands," she concluded authoritatively.

Minerva watched as mother and daughter continued to bicker back and forth as she reached for her drink and took another sip. This was one cat fight that she did not want to miss.

* * *

><p><em>July 31, 2011<em>

_7:30 PM_

_The Signature at MGM Grand, Room 814_

Sixteen year old Harry Potter tucked his hotel key card into his pocket as he stepped through the door into the suite that he and his best friend Hermione shared. In celebration of his sixteenth birthday, Richard Granger had taken Harry and the others out for dinner at one of the many restaurants located inside the MGM Grand. In this case, as it was a celebratory meal, Richard had chosen to splurge, and had taken the group to the restaurant the bore the name of Emeril Lagasse, a name that did not come cheap.

Following the meal, Richard and Harry, with some quick glamour assistance from Minerva McGonagall, had retired to the casino for a few hands of blackjack. Harry had admitted to Richard that, following his loss at the poker tournament a few days before, he was apprehensive to try again, despite Richard's insistence to the contrary. In the end, they had compromised on blackjack, which Richard insisted on paying for, as it was Harry's birthday. And even though Hermione had wanted to stay with Harry, Ellen had suggested that she go upstairs and wait for him to return there.

For this involvement, Harry was grateful, as it meant he could collect his wits without having Hermione hover nearby as he did so. He was preparing to make a big change in their relationship, one that he could only hope would work out, and he wanted everything to be perfect.

Taking a deep breath as he stepped through the door, Harry was greeted by the sight of Hermione rifling through her suitcase, which was perched on the coffee table in front of his makeshift bed. From what Harry could tell, she appeared to be packing up her belongings, which made sense considering the fact that the group was scheduled to depart the next day. Harry's throat caught as he considered the possibility that she was nearly finished packing.

She smiled brightly when he approached and stepped back from her luggage, presenting him with a small, brightly wrapped package.

"Hey, I never did get to give you your birthday present."

Harry stared at the offered box quietly before taking it and placing it on the nearby counter. "Actually Hermione, there was something else I wanted from you for my birthday," he said.

"I can return that one if you don't like it, sorry for not asking," Hermione replied sullenly.

"No! I'm sure it's great!" he interjected quickly. Harry took a deep breath. _It's now or never_, he told himself. "It's just that I'd like for you to accompany me tonight for my present. You know... as my date?"

Harry stared at her as he felt his courage drain away. Gone was the disappointed face when he told her that the book she was sure to have bought him wasn't what he wanted, replaced with a look between confusion and surprise. Had she changed her mind from earlier?

"Where to?" she responded finally, albeit in a coy tone.

"Well… see… I recently came into a bit of money, as you're no doubt aware…" Hermione giggled at this. "And anyway, I happened to come across some tickets to go see that show _Phantom_ over at The Venetian tonight-"

"What?" Hermione shrieked. "You got tickets to that! I've wanted to see that ever since we got here! I've wanted to see _Phantom of the Opera_ ever since I was a little girl!"

"So did you want to go then?" Harry asked with smile.

"Are you kidding me? Of course I want to go! Lemme just go tell my mum and dad!" She bolted toward the door, and Harry barely had time to grab her arm as she passed by, rushing past in her excitement. "What?" she asked as he stopped her.

"They already know," he told her softly.

"You've already talked to them…"

"Yeah," he replied quietly. "And I was kinda hoping you'd want to go with me."

Hermione smiled as he released her arm. "I'd love to," she responded, matching his tone. "Do I need to wear anything special?"

Harry's nervousness began to evaporate upon hearing her response. Even though he hardly doubted that she would want to go with him, he was still nervous about the entire affair; he wanted the night to go perfectly. "Actually, from what I can tell, this is kinda a formal event, which is why I was nervous about you starting to pack already."

"You mean you want me to wear the dress?" she asked, picking up on what he had been hinting.

"Only if you want to," Harry replied sheepishly, even though that was what he wanted.

"I do," she said. "What time's the show?"

"Nine thirty," he said. "But I think we should leave a bit early… maybe about eight thirty or so, just to make sure that we get there in time and get our seats and-"

Hermione silenced Harry's rambling by pressing her index finger against his lips. "Sounds great, Harry," she said quietly. "I just need a bit of time to get ready, alright?" Harry nodded dumbly as Hermione withdrew her finger and picked up her bag before carrying it into her room.

Just shy of an hour later, the door to Hermione's room opened once more, and she stepped out, clad in the periwinkle dress that she had worn a few days before. Harry, sitting at the table in a pair of black slacks, a plain white dress shirt, and black jacket, leapt to his feet as she walked out. He took a deep breath as his eyes swept over her appreciatively, taking in her appearance.

"You look great," he breathed.

Hermione blushed prettily at his compliment. "Thanks," she whispered. "You don't look too bad yourself."

Harry chuckled nervously at her wording. "I think I'll take that as a compliment," he retorted. "I guess I'd rather look 'not bad' than just plain bad!"

She slapped him playfully for his joke. "Oh, knock it off!" she laughed. "It _was_ a compliment! Just an awkward one, that's all!"

Harry's face grew serious at her last comment. "Oh, well, I didn't mean for this to be awkward…"

"Harry, no!" Hermione said firmly. "I was just making a joke! I never meant that you had made anything awkward, alright? Honestly, I've been wanting to see this show for a long time, so let's just enjoy ourselves tonight."

Harry nodded, a small smile once again growing on his face as he rose from his seat and opened the door for Hermione. However, as soon as they stepped into the hall, they were greeted by two familiar faces: Richard and Ellen, the latter of which was armed with a camera.

"Oh, no," Hermione groaned as the first flash went off.

"What?" her mother asked, lining up for another shot as Hermione turned her back to her and too cover against Harry's chest. "I just wanted a few pictures, that's all!"

"That's all?" Hermione cried. "Mother, you're embarrassing me!"

"Well, that's what we have children for, isn't it?" Ellen retorted.

"No! No it isn't!"

Ellen laughed softly. "Well, one day you'll see that I'm right," she added, taking in the sight of her daughter in Harry's arms and snapped another photo. "But just have fun tonight, you two. That's all I ask."

Harry looked to Richard whose face bore a small, sad smile. Yet he nodded curtly at Harry as Hermione detached herself from Harry's torso. Briefly making eye contact with Richard, Harry placed his hand on the small of Hermione's back and guided her away from her parents toward the elevators.

The two made the journey out of the MGM in companionable silence, neither willing to break the ice after the awkward encounter with Hermione's parents. Hermione waited on the sidewalk as Harry stepped into the street in front of the hotel to hail a taxi. A moment later, one of the distinctive yellow vehicles stopped in front of him. Harry opened the door for Hermione and took her hand as she climbed inside. Following behind her, Harry climbed into the back seat before giving the driver their destination.

The driver, glancing in his rear-view mirror, could instantly tell what the occasion was for the two teens. The fact that they were sitting so close together, yet neither was talking to the other, was a dead giveaway that the two were out for a nervous first date.

As the taxi stopped in the driveway of The Venetian, Harry stepped out and rushed around the cab to the driver's door to pay. He then opened the rear driver-side door and took Hermione's hand to help her out.

"Oh, honestly, Harry! I can get out of a car on my own!" Hermione laughed, hiding the blush that was creeping up her neck.

Harry reached behind his head and scratched his neck idly for the second time that night. "I just want to do this right," he explained, looking down slightly.

"Harry?" Hermione called, getting his attention as the two took off toward the building, "stop being so hard on yourself, alright? You _are_ doing this right. So just have fun and stop second-guessing everything you do… please?"

"Alright," Harry replied, once again placing his hand on her back. He picked up his pace as the two made their way toward the theater, handing their tickets to the attendant just outside the door before stepping over the threshold.

Harry reached behind his head and scratched his neck idly for the second time that night. "I just want tonight to be perfect for you," he explained, looking down slightly.

"It is perfect Harry," she said before taking his hand. "Even without that stuff. Though I suppose it is every girl's dream to be treated as a right princess."

Harry blushed and led her by the hand towards the theatre, handing their tickets to the immaculately dressed attendant just outside the door before steeping over the threshold.

Once inside, Harry and Hermione were taken aback by the grandeur of the theater. The massive room was vaguely rectangular in shape, tapering down toward the front as it reached the stage. Either wall on the sides of the stage were taken up by nearly a dozen boxes for gallery seating, but were staged with artificial audience members. The overall color scheme was one of red and gold, as the plush crimson seats and draperies were offset against the rich gold pillars and accents that lined the walls. These intricately sculpted columns seemed to depict various mythological creatures, adding to the sense of wonder that permeated the room.

"It's like a Gryffindor's dream room," Harry observed as the pair stopped just inside the door.

"Uh-huh," Hermione agreed in shock.

"Well, except for that," Harry added, pointing up at the ceiling.

Whereas the rest of the room was roughly rectangular, the walls rose into a majestic sapphire dome, inlaid with gold accents. In the center of this dome, a great chandelier hung, lending an air of almost-Victorian elegance to the theater.

"Now that's a chandelier," Hermione observed, taking in the sight.

"Look out," Harry said, pulling Hermione to the side lightly as another pair of ticket-holders walked through the door, narrowly missing the teens. "Maybe we should get to our seats and enjoy it from there?" he suggested jokingly.

Hermione chuckled as she nodded, allowing Harry to lead her to their seats.

"On the mezzanine, Harry?" she asked, as the pair walked along the front of the raised seating area near the back of the theater.

"I just had to go for it," he explained as he gestured for her to take a seat in seat C36. He then took a seat to her left. "You were the one who had to explain to me what a mezzanine was the other day, so it only made sense. That, and the fact that I figured it would have a good view… looks like I was right about that."

"Yeah," she agreed, staring off into space.

Harry glanced down at his watch to find that there were still ten minutes before the show was scheduled to start, and watched as the theater continued to fill slowly.

"What is this, Harry?" Hermione asked quietly as the two sat, waiting.

"Wait… what?" he stammered, turning to face her nervously. "What do you mean?"

"This," she explained, gesturing between the two and then to the theater. "We don't usually do things like this, so I was just wondering…"

"This," she explained, gesturing between the two of them and then to the theatre. "Is this a 'tonight' sort of affair or.." she trailed off with a flush.

This, Harry realized, was it; the moment that could change everything. But that was what he was afraid of, and he couldn't bring himself to form a coherent response as a result.

"I… erm…" he stuttered, trying to piece together some semblance of an intelligent statement.

Hermione placed her hand on his, as they both rested on the armrest separating the pair. "Harry," she began, "I'm your best friend. You can tell me whatever you're thinking… you know that, right?"

Harry sighed. "I don't know that I want to be your best friend anymore," he mumbled.

"What do you mean, Harry?" she asked softly. "You don't want to be friends anymore or-"

"No!" Harry replied vehemently. "That's not what I meant at all!"

"That's what I thought," Hermione chuckled, before quickly quieting once more. "Or did you want to be something… more?"

"That's up to you," Harry answered. "But frankly I'd like that."

"So would I," she said, a broad smile growing on her face. At her response, a matching smile burst onto Harry's face, causing Hermione to laugh loudly before quickly covering her mouth in embarrassment. Harry laughed quietly at her outburst, just as the lights began to dim.

As the light faded and music began to swell, Hermione lifted the armrest between the two seats and scooted over, snuggled into his side for the show. When he wrapped his arm around her, Hermione was sure it would be the best show of her life.

* * *

><p><em>July 31, 2011<em>

_11:28 PM_

Harry and Hermione stepped out of The Venetian and into the sweltering heat of the summer night. While Harry had originally planned on hailing another taxi to take them back to the MGM, he had promptly disposed of that idea as soon as the show had ended, deciding that it would be better for the pair to walk back to their hotel.

"Well?" Harry asked, taking her hand. "How was it?"

Hermione chuckled at his eager attitude. "Great!" she exclaimed as they passed Paris. "I mean, I didn't really know what to expect, since I had only heard about the show briefly, but it was just as good as all of the hype suggested! I mean, the music! And the whole chandelier thing! Oh, it was brilliant!"

"Glad you liked it!" Harry laughed as the pair walked.

"Of course I did! I had all that time to build up expectations in my head, and you went and blew them away!"

"What do you mean, 'I' blew them away? Don't you mean the show?"

Hermione shook her head. "No," she replied, "I meant you. I was waiting for this for a while… couldn't you tell? And frankly, it took you long enough to ask!"

Harry stuck his tongue out at her, eliciting another giggle.

"And the play was great too!" she reiterated.

Harry nodded silently. "Yeah," he agreed, "it wasn't bad… for an opera."

"Boys…" she groaned playfully, rolling her eyes.

"Well I would certainly hope so!" he cried as the pair entered the MGM. "I've got a certain image to maintain here! I have to do right by all the manly men around the world!"

"And you would lose your man card if you even hinted that you enjoyed it, right?" she joked.

"Exactly! See, I knew you'd understand!"

"Oh, I understand, alright," Hermione retorted. "I understand that those precious 'man laws' don't want you to be able to show any kind of deep emotion or anything like that, right?"

Harry, at a loss for words, did not answer but instead blushed brightly.

"You know I'm just joking right Harry?" Hermione asked. "I know you can show emotion, but I think it's kinda cute whenever you try to be the big, tough man."

"What do you mean 'try?'" Harry asked in faux bewilderment.

"'Do or do not. There is no try?'" Hermione quoted.

"Huh?"

"Nevermind. I just know you have a softer side that's all. That's part of the reason why I like you as much as I do."

"And how much is that?"

Hermione paused for a moment as if considering his question. "Well," she began, "you're my boyfriend now, so I think that shows how much I like you."

"...your boyfriend?" he asked, "So that'd make you my girlfriend, right?" holding his breath in anticipation. However, Hermione saw this.

"You can breathe, Harry," she reassured him with a chuckle. "Because I'd love that."

"Really?" he asked hopefully as they boarded the elevator in the lobby of The Signature.

"Really," she confirmed. "Did you think I would say anything else? I just told you that you were my boyfriend. Wouldn't that automatically make me your girlfriend?"

"Well… I just wasn't sure..."

"Then you can put your fears to rest, Harry. I'd love to be your girlfriend." She squeezed his hand tightly and relished in the feeling of their interconnected fingers.

"Girlfriend," Harry muttered. "I have my first girlfriend."

"If you don't count Cho," Hermione reminded him.

"I don't count Cho," he replied as the elevator doors opened. "You're my first… and that's not gonna change."

She squeezed his hand once more, but he did not return the gesture. Instead, he released her hand and wrapped his left arm around her waist, pulling her tight to his side as the two walked down the hall to their room. Holding her close to his side, Harry fished around in his pocket for his room key before sliding it into the slot above the handle.

Opening the door, Harry pulled Hermione into the room, squeezing yet another giggle from her as he did so. However, as soon as they entered the room, Harry stopped short, causing Hermione to do so as well.

There, sitting on the sofa watching the television in the sitting area, were Richard and Ellen.

"Hey, you two," Ellen greeted the two newcomers.

"Um… hey," Harry replied, confused. "What're you two doing in here?"

Ellen shrugged. "Richard here thought it might be fun to come over and see how the other half live."

"Yeah," her husband agreed. "You two have a nice room over here."

"Daddy!" Hermione scolded. "Stop it!"

"What?" Richard asked innocently.

"Anyway, how was the show?" Ellen asked, changing the subject.

"Good," Harry and Hermione replied harmoniously.

"Great," Ellen responded with a nod. She then put her hand on her husband's leg to get his attention. "Well then, I think we're done here, don't you dear?" Richard grumbled his assent as the two stood from the sofa and moved toward the door. "Oh, and Hermione," Ellen added, "your belongings have been moved over to our room for the night."

"What?" Hermione cried in bewilderment.

But it was Richard who responded for his wife. "We just thought it might be nice to spend at least one night with you before we left tomorrow," he said with a twinkle in his eye.

"So we'll be waiting for you across the hall, alright?" Ellen added, giving her daughter a knowing smile. The elder Grangers then left the room, leaving Harry and Hermione alone once again.

"Parents," Hermione grumbled as she and Harry stepped into the hall just as Richard and Ellen closed their door.

"Hey, at least you have them," Harry opined nonchalantly. "They may embarrass you or make your life hard, but at least you know that they care about you."

"But you saw how transparent they were!"

"So?" Harry asked with a shrug. "Honestly, I can't say I disagree with them. I mean, if you had a daughter your age, would you let her stay the night with her new boyfriend? I wouldn't. Especially not one that looks so... well, like you."

"Such maturity," Hermione said sarcastically to hide her blush. "I'm sure you and Daddy get along swimmingly, don't you?"

"We've had our chats," Harry responded. "But yeah, we do see eye to eye on a few things. That's why he was so willing to let us go tonight."

"Speaking of which," Hermione began softly as she stepped between Harry and her parents' door, "I had a great time tonight. Thank you for taking me."

"Hey, the pleasure was all mine," he replied with equal softness. "I'll see you in the morning, alright?"

Hermione nodded, a small smile on her face as Harry turned back toward the door.

"Wait... how exactly is it that I look?" she asked as he moved to the door, referring to his earlier comment.

"Perfect," he answered honestly. "Simply perfect."

"Goodnight," she said quietly with a blush. "And I hope you liked my present Birthday Boy."

Harry gave a small smile as he looked down the hall to either side to see that they were, indeed, alone. In fact, the only sound aside from the padding of his feet against the plush carpet was the faint rumble of the ice machine down the hall.

But just as he reached the door, Harry felt Hermione tap him on the shoulder. He turned around just as she pressed her lips to his in a chaste kiss. Harry's nervousness rose as he allowed himself to melt into their first, short kiss.

But as soon as it had started, it was finished as Hermione pulled away with a shy grin on her face.

"You were going to forget," she explained. "First kiss, first date?" She looked up at him and smiled prettily. "Goodnight Harry," she said as she turned to the door to her parents' room.

Harry stood rooted to the floor as he watched her begin to walk away. _That's it?_ he thought. _That was more like my kiss with Cho... kinda boring._ He stared after her for a split second before making up his mind. _Oh to hell with it._

Instantly, he grabbed Hermione by the arm and spun her around to face him.

"Wha-" she squeaked.

But whatever she was about to ask was instantly silenced as Harry snaked his arm around her waist and lowered his face to hers. Their lips met in a soul-searing kiss as both of them forgot the rest of the world and instead reveled in what they both hoped would be but one of many similar kisses.

After an eternity, the two parted, panting lightly as they stared into each other's eyes. Both teens were grinning broadly as Harry finally released his grip on Hermione's waist.

"Goodnight, Hermione," he said simply before turning and entering his room.

As the door closed, Hermione was left alone in the hall. Standing there, dumbstruck, she unconsciously reached up and touched her lips, which were still tingling from the contact. Running her fingers along her lips, she traced the shape of the goofy grin that was still plastered on her face.

"Goodnight, Harry," she whispered.

**THE END**

* * *

><p><span>Stealing Time: Post Mortem<span>

"…**what's past is prologue…"** _**–The Tempest Act 2, Scene 1**_

Once again, ladies and gentlemen, we come to the end of another story. I must thank you all for your support through reviews and by giving me a bit of your valuable time by reading this story. Your support has made this entire endeavor worthwhile and has only served to spur me on when it comes to my writing. Thank you for that. Originally, I wrote a long author's note at the end of my first story, Harry Potter and the Divine Plan, which served to tie the whole story together and address a number of points that had not been discussed. I enjoyed baring the heart of that story so much that I felt that I should do it again.

In general I feel that the writing of this story went much smoother than my previous story. I have, over the course of three months, completed a story that took nearly eighteen months to write the first time. Part of this may be attributed to the fact that I was much more invested in this story, but it can also be credited to greater preparation and structure. Overall, this story was much tighter and much leaner than my first story, which helped to make it flow much better, at least in my eyes.

I originally had the idea for this story in the summer of 2010 when my brain suddenly seemed to explode with numerous story ideas. I began to find story inspiration everywhere, especially in the media. If I'm completely honest with you, this story idea has its roots in my 2010 trip to Las Vegas as well as in watching the _Oceans_ movies. Those movies were my greatest inspiration and are proof that I began to find inspiration everywhere. Without getting too ahead of myself, we will see this phenomenon again later in this series.

At the same time as I had the idea for this story, I came up with several other story ideas, many of which are sitting in a separate file on my computer. As The Divine Plan was winding down, my energies began to shift to my next story. At one point I planned on abandoning my first story and simply moving on to writing this one instead. However, I persevered and finished that story. As I did so, I realized that I needed to push myself to the next level; I needed to challenge myself when it came to storytelling. My solution to this predicament was to conceive a long, detailed plot that dwarfed anything I had attempted before. However, the one thing that I wanted to avoid was a massive 500,000 word or longer beast, for fear that I would lose interest along the way. This had happened when I was writing The Divine Plan, as I started to grow bored after about twenty chapters. So it became my goal to prevent that from ever happening again. Therefore, I decided that it would be best to write a series, and as that idea gestated I realized that I could write a series using the story ideas that I already had. Thus, the Time series was born. While each of the four originally planned stories in this series began life as their own independent story idea, I was able to, with a few modifications, connect them together to form one massive story that, I feel, is much better than they would have been on their own.

Unfortunately, over the course of writing this story I, along with my beta inVale, decided that various plot elements were not entirely feasible. The worst part of this was that we realized this toward the end of writing Stealing Time. As a result some plot elements that I had teased during early chapters were discarded as the series was cut down from four stories to two. I will still do my best to tie up those plot elements as neatly as possible but I do apologize for any that I might miss. This series will, however, be better in the long run for that decision. In my note at the end of Killing Time, I hope to be able to detail the original plot for this series and reveal the cut portions of the plot.

Regarding the Queen songs, I have every intention to continue using those as chapter titles. However, it is quite difficult to do so, even though it is very rewarding. Over the course of this story, a few chapters changed names several times and one chapter was even added just for the sole purpose of using another song (and to bring the total number of chapters up to 21, which is purposeful due to the setting of Las Vegas). For example, chapter 4, which I ended up calling _In Only Seven Days_, was originally called _One Vision_ as it dealt with the Order meeting and deciding that the group would travel to Vegas. Likewise, chapter 12 changed names a few times. While I originally settled on _Son and Daughter_, the chapter was, for no apparent reason, originally named _A Kind of Magic_ before the title changed to _Father to Son_ due to the conversation between Sirius and Harry.

Another note that I want to make is that the final chapter of both of the stories in this series will use album titles. We already saw that with this chapter, and as I have already laid out the chapter titles for the entirety of Killing Time, that will continue to be the case.

Writing Stealing Time has been some of the greatest fun I've had in a long time and I have you to thank, at least in part, for that. But while I was having my fun, I was also learning a great deal. If any of you reading this are planning or wanting to write in the future, please keep reading. When I initially started writing fiction I did not do any preparation; I simply jumped headfirst into writing and started to make my own mistakes. We learn the most by making our own mistakes but we can also learn from the mistakes of others, and learn from what they have learned. That is why I want to present the top lessons that I learned while writing this story, in the hopes that even one aspiring author will be able to learn at least something:

1. _Your characters are your plot_. As incomprehensible as that may sound, a story is nothing without its characters. You may have the greatest, most original story idea in the history of mankind. But if the characters are not there to support it, then the story will fall flat. I spent so much time developing the plot of this story in the wake of The Divine Plan that I left the characters by the wayside, at least according to a few reviews. That is something I hope to address in the future.

2._ Don't lose the plot_. I will admit that I have fallen victim to this problem before but I tried to rectify that situation in this story. Basically, I have read a large number of stories that seem to meander from chapter to chapter with few to no story-critical events occurring. While I have infinite respect for any person who decides to try their hand at writing a story, I have realized that every chapter needs to have a purpose. Even if it is only a small plot point every chapter needs to contribute to the overall story by keeping things moving along. As I said above, character development is key, but must be coupled with plot development, instead of just watching the characters stand around shooting the breeze.

3. _Your outline is your best friend_. As I mentioned in the post-mortem for The Divine Plan, I wrote that story without the aid of an outline. For this story I decided to try writing a complete outline before I ever started writing the story and that made the entire writing process much easier. What this does is it helps to organize your thoughts and helps you to not forget anything. When writing a long, novel-length story such as this one, it is extremely easy to forget a minor plot point that was supposed to have lasting implications later. That is what an outline helps with. However, that is not to say that you cannot change the story during the writing process, as I certainly did so as I continued to write this story. Invariably, as one writes, new ideas pop up that might sound great. So long as they are incorporated into the story organically, there is no problem deviating from the outline.

4._ Different people have different tastes_. As obvious as that sounds, no matter how good your story is, you will always receive negative reviews; that is the nature of life. But just because somebody doesn't like your story doesn't mean you have to change it to suit that one person's unique tastes. I was certainly tempted to do this as this story progressed, especially when a few reviewers claimed that the characters seem poorly realized or, in some cases, robotic. While that was hardly what I was trying to do, the fact that the vast majority of reviews for this story were glowing made me realize that not everyone has the same tastes. Even so, I was tempted to change the characterization of the characters in this story, in an attempt to suit everybody's needs. However, I quickly realized that I didn't know how to do that. In all honesty, I write these characters the way I know how and that is exactly how you should as well.

5. _Try to keep a regular update schedule_. While this may seem like common sense, giving yourself the extra pressure of maintaining a relatively consistent update schedule helps with the development of the story. If you are just casually writing and releasing chapters at random intervals, I have found (at least through my own experience), that your mind tends to wander away from the story. When this happens, potential plot problems are no longer solved, and the interest in the story starts to wane. That is certainly a situation I faced with The Divine Plan, and it caused me to nearly give up on the story. Now, this is not to say that everybody's productivity should be consistent. I realize that people have other things to do in their lives other than writing their masterpiece. However, that does not prevent consistent updates. For example, when I started this story, I wrote the first six or seven chapters before I even posted the first one; and that was after I finished my outline. This allowed me to have a buffer between the chapter I was currently writing and what was posted, just in case I ran into a few snags in the writing process. In fact, as I am writing this note, I have only just posted chapter 13 of this story.

While these lessons may not apply to everybody, they are what I have been able to take away from writing this story. I hope that there is somebody out there who may be able to take away something from them as well because, if there is even one person who can, it will make it all worthwhile to me. I also hope to be able to apply these lessons in my future writing endeavors.

Speaking of my future writing endeavors, I now want to talk about the sequel to this story. If you have read this far, it is likely that you might be looking for a few hints about where this series is going, so let's get started.

My guiding principle throughout this entire series is to write something original. I have seen too many stories on the Internet that tend to tell the same story in different words. Admittedly that is exactly what I did with The Divine Plan, when I literally thought to myself, "I can do that!" In the end I did… almost to a fault. While that story did have some unique and original elements, its entire premise was based in a time-tested, cliché plot that revolved around going back in time and starting over. As of right now, I have no plans to write another "do canon all over again" story. But if I do, somehow, incorporate time travel into a future story it will be used in another way, perhaps similar to PoA when Harry and Hermione go back in time to basically fill in the blanks and fill in any plot holes. As a result, I will try not to post a story whose premise I have seen before, and will use the words of novelist Thomas Berger, who asked, "Why do writers write? Because it isn't there."

Now that Stealing Time is complete, I am going to move on to its sequel: Killing Time. This story is planned to be a much darker affair than Stealing Time and will deal with some plot elements that I have not yet tackled. The story will be bigger and grander than in Stealing Time, dealing with a number of different story threads and the larger repercussions of those. My guiding question when developing the story of Killing Time was "why is Voldemort so bad?" Throughout canon, my impression of Voldemort was that he was little more than a mass murderer and was not really shown to be a true threat to the existence of the magical world. He seemed more like a terrorist than a true villain in my view. I want to explore that a bit more in Killing Time, which you should hopefully be reading in the next few weeks. However one thing that I do want to reiterate is the fact that Stealing Time is only the first part of this series. While I did tie up a number of loose ends as the story ended, there are still many more out there. This entire premise is the basis of the title I chose for this post-mortem. The plot for that story has also been reworked somewhat and has undergone extensive development between myself and inVale, who is also involved in the writing process. He was involved in the final chapters of this story as well, as both a beta and a sounding board. My thanks go out to him for all of his help, as well as to pathseekerme for her help in editing the chapters of this story and providing her assistance!

I also want to take a moment to talk about my writing future. I am not egotistical enough to think that I am a perfect writer by any stretch of the imagination. If you are reading this, it is possible that you have left me a review at one point or another, which means that I may have responded to you as well. If I have then you would know that I welcome constructive criticism; I want to know how my readers think that I can improve. However, constructive criticism must provide some direction as well. Saying what I am doing wrong without saying how to fix it is like giving a person a destination without giving them directions to get there; it just doesn't work. So, for instance, saying that I should characterize Harry or Hermione better does little to help me, as it does not say how I am mischaracterizing them. I welcome constructive criticism with open arms, as I want to improve as a writer. It just needs to be presented in the right way. So please leave me a review and let me know what you thought. I hope every one of you who read this chapter will do so.

And now it is time to tally up the scores for the guesses for the chapters in this story. First off, let me congratulate the following reviewers for correctly guessing the title for this chapter: MariusDarkwolf, luvsanime02, osc630, acam, and Kingswriter. Great job all of you! But now it is time to see who won for this story; who guessed the most chapters correctly as this story was written. This total includes the guesses for the epilogue, and all guesses through the posting of the final chapter:

luvsanime02: 15

acam: 11

osc630: 9

Ibris: 4

GodricG89: 4

Kingswriter: 3

DragonShenron: 3

Imagine-Unique-Name-Here: 2

MariusDarkwolf: 2

HHRbelong2gether: 2

Dora Penmoko: 2

inVale: 2 - Note from inVale: I would have gotten more if I was allowed to compete :p

pfeil: 1

Kyprioth's crow: 1

Fallen-Petals15: 1

AnnaDruvez: 1

Chaotic Courtney: 1

naughtyvampire2003: 1

Witty Eagle Proud Ravenclaw: 1

Chelle-Marie Mcgonagle: 1

JBird7986: 1

Deedlez01: 1

mcksiab: 1

Padfoot-Moony-an-Prongs: 1

imagelesssky: 1

So as we can see, luvsanime02 is the clear winner, having guessed 15 out of the 21 chapters correctly! Congratulations and well done! I want to thank all of you for participating in this little game, and I hope that it was at least a bit of fun for you. I also hope that all of you return for Killing Time, where we will be playing the same game again. With the sequel, the game will be somewhat harder, as I used a large number of well-known Queen songs in Stealing Time. However, that simply means that the game will be more rewarding. It looks as though luvsanime02 will be the person to beat going into Killing Time. So who among you is ready to beat them? I urge all of you to brush up on your Queen songs, as the next story will be posted soon. I have provided the hint for the first chapter of it below. But there is one other hint I can provide about the chapter titles in Killing Time: there will be plenty of "Queens."

**Chapter Title Hint:** Even though this story is finished, I want to give you a hint as to the title of the first chapter of Killing Time. I will use Queen songs throughout that story, as I have already planned that out. The first chapter of that story will be named after a song off of the _Made in Heaven_ album, released in 1995. This song, originally written for Roger Taylor's band The Cross, was song by Freddie Mercury right around the _Magic _era. However, following his death, Queen added this song to the _Made in Heaven_ album as a sort of commemoration of his life. Guesses for this chapter, even though they are in reviews for this story, will be reported when I post the next story, and will be included in the count at the end of Killing Time.

And so, my friends, we come to the end of Stealing Time. I must thank all of you once again for reading and reviewing. If you enjoyed this story or want an alert as to when Killing Time is posted, please add me to your Author Alert or Favorite Author list. At the same time, for all of you who have read this far, I ask you to please leave me a review. Tell me what you thought of this story, what needs to continue, and what I need to improve on. As I said in my post-mortem of The Divine Plan, if this is where you get off, thank you for riding. But as for the rest of you, I hope to see you again in the near future, as without you, my dear reader, none of this would be possible. So good night, good luck, and I'll see you soon.

Thank you,

Corruo

What's this? It looks like a bit of the story tried to escape from the rest and hide after the credits. Well, we can't let that happen can we?

* * *

><p><em>July 31, 2011<em>

_11:59 PM_

Harry creaked open the door to his room to find the wrapped present still on the counter. He hesitated for a moment before deciding she wouldn't mind. With a smile he unwrapped the gift neatly, just as she would, to find a handsome leather journal. On the first page he found her neat print print filling the lines.

_Harry,_

_I feel I shouldn't break my tradition of buying you books for every occasion. It's not because I feel you need the extra help, honest. Well, maybe just a bit. I know you can tell me anything but just in case, you can write it in here. I promise to call it a journal and not a 'diary' for your fragile masculine ego._

_Love from,_

_Hermione_

Harry smiled and flipped to the second page and was surprised to find that she had written on the second page as well. Her usual neat hand writing was marred by words scratched out and sentences re-written.

_Harry,_

_There is a simple irony in writing that you can tell me anything and then hiding my words inside this journal. But at least I hope they'll reach you eventually. I expected many things from this summer; I hoped to get in months of reading, relaxation and time with my parents. Instead I got you and this time with you has been something truly special. I hope you feel that way about it too._

_Love,_

_Hermione_

Harry resisted the urge to rush out into the hall bang on her door; to drag her back out into the hallway and tell her the truth; that despite Dark Wizards, the company of Snape and Malfoy, and the confusion it brought to his life this summer holiday, the time he had spent with her had been the best of his life.

But he held back, realizing that that could wait. Instead he grabbed the nearby hotel pen, opened to a fresh page and began to write...

**To Be Continued...**


End file.
